“Besides my North British Plate and Breakfast equipidge--I have two handsom suvvices for dinner--the goold plate for Sundays, and the silver for common use. When I ave a great party, 'Trent,' I say to my man, 'we will have the London and Bummingham plate to-day (the goold), or else the Manchester and Leeds (the silver).' I bought them after realizing on the abuf lines, and if people suppose that the companys made me a presnt of the plate, how can I help it? “In the sam way I say, 'Trent, bring us a bottle of Bristol amid Hexeter!' or, 'Put some Heastern Counties in hice!' HE knows what I mean: it's the wines I bought upon the hospicious tummination of my connexshn with those two railroads. “So strong, indeed, as this abbit become, that being asked to stand Godfather to the youngest Miss Diddle last weak, I had her christened (provisionally) Rosamell--from the French line of which I am Director; and only the other day, finding myself rayther unwell, 'Doctor,' says I to Sir Jeames Clark, 'I've sent to consult you because my Midlands are out of horder; and I want you to send them up to a premium.' The Doctor lafd, and I beleave told the story subsquintly at Buckinum P-ll-s. “But I will trouble you no father. My sole objict in writing has been to CLEAR MY CARRATER--to show that I came by my money in a honrable way: that I'm not ashaymd of the manner in which I gayned it, and ham indeed grateful for my good fortune. “To conclude, I have ad my podigree maid out at the Erald Hoffis (I don't mean the Morning Erald), and have took for my arms a Stagg. You are corrict in stating that I am of hancient Normin famly. This is more than Peal can say, to whomb I applied for a barnetcy; but the primmier being of low igstraction, natrally stickles for his horder. Consurvative though I be, I MAY CHANGE MY OPINIONS before the next Election, when I intend to hoffer myself as a Candydick for Parlymint. “Meanwhile, I have the honor to be, Sir, “Your most obeajnt Survnt, “FITZ-JAMES DE LA PLUCHE.” THE DIARY. One day in the panic week, our friend Jeames called at our office, evidently in great perturbation of mind and disorder of dress. He had no flower in his button-hole; his yellow kid gloves were certainly two days old. He had not above three of the ten chains he usually sports, and his great coarse knotty-knuckled old hands were deprived of some dozen of the rubies, emeralds, and other cameos with which, since his elevation to fortune, the poor fellow has thought fit to adorn himself. “How's scrip, Mr. Jeames?” said we pleasantly, greeting our esteemed contributor.