It would appear that there is now no doubt but that the account given by Jones as to his having effected his entrance into the Palace by scaling the garden wall from Constitution Hill is correct. Upon being asked whether he had not met some of the attendants in the course of his progress along the corridor and staircase, he replied, “Yes,” but that, when he saw any one coming in his direction, he hid himself behind the pillars, or behind any piece of furniture which happened to be near. Hitherto he has been silent as to the motive which induced him to take so extraordinary a step as that of forcing his way a second time into the royal apartments, and when asked on Friday morning, after he had been upon the tread-wheel, how he liked his punishment, his answer was to the effect that he had got into the scrape, and must do the best he could. There does not appear to be the slightest ground for the rumour that he is insane. Many circumstances have transpired to show that Jones was in the Palace the whole of Wednesday. The delinquent states that during the day he secreted himself under different beds and in cupboards, until at last he obtained an entrance into the room in which he was discovered. Not much reliance can be placed in his statements, but, as such general curiosity exists on the subject, we may state that, in answer to interrogatories, he said, “that he had sat upon the throne, that he saw the Queen, and heard the Princess Royal cry.” Prince Albert was in the room with her Majesty taking leave for the night when the miscreant was discovered under the sofa. The fellow’s shoes were found in one of the rooms of the ground-floor. The sofa under which the boy was discovered, we understand, is one of most costly and magnificent material and workmanship, and ordered expressly for the accommodation of the royal and illustrious visitors who call to pay their respects to her Majesty. MR. FERGUSON AND QUEEN VICTORIA. _TUNE_--“_Jim Crow._” Come all you Britons high and low, And banish grief and care, There’s a proclamation insued out, “You don’t lodge here!” CHORUS. They ran away without delay, To the Queen to banish fear, But she said,--my chaps, its very fine, But you don’t lodge here. There was an Orange merchant. As you shall understand, So she started him to Hannover, To cumber up the land. The next it was a soldier, And he wore scarlet clothes, So the queen took up the poker, And hit him on the nose. The next was Bobby Orange Peel, She thought he was a flat, In his right hand was a truncheon, And in his left a trap. The next was Frank from Wiltshire, She put him to the rout, She wopp’d him all round Windsor park, And cured him of the gout.