FOR MESSRS. MACREADY AND CHARLES KEAN. Take an enormous hero—work him up with improbabilities—dress him in spangles and a long train—disguise his head as much as possible, as the great beauty of this dish is to avoid any resemblance to the “tête de veau au naturel.” Profile of a bearded young man's head, face to face with a cow's head on a platter. A TETE A TETE. Grill him for three acts. When well worked up, add a murder or large dose of innocence (according to the palate of the guests)—Season, with a strong infusion of claqueurs and box orders. Serve up with twelve-sheet posters, and imaginary Shaksperian announcements. N.B. Be careful, in cooking the heroes, not to turn their backs to the front range—should you do so the dish will be spoiled. FOR THE ROYAL VIC. (A Domestic Sketch.) Take a young woman—give her six pounds a year—work up her father and mother into a viscous paste—bind all with an abandoned poacher—throw in a “dust of virtue,” and a “handful of vice.” When the poacher is about to boil over, put him into another saucepan, let him simmer for some time, and then he will turn out “lord of the manor,” and marry the young woman. Serve up with bludgeons, handcuffs, a sentimental gaoler, and a large tureen of innocence preserved. FOR THE SURREY NAUTICAL. Take a big man with a loud voice, dress him with a pair of ducks, and, if pork is comeatable, a pigtail—stuff his jaws with an imitation quid, and his mouth with a large assortment of dammes. Garnish with two broad-swords and a hornpipe. Boil down a press- gang and six or seven smugglers, and (if in season) a bo’swain and large cat-o’-nine-tails.—Sprinkle the dish with two lieutenants, four midshipmen, and about seven or eight common sailors. Serve up with a pair of epaulettes and an admiral in a white wig, silk stockings, smalls, and the Mutiny Act. OUR CITY ARTICLE. We have no arrivals to-day, but are looking out anxiously for the overland mail from Battersea. It is expected that news will be brought of the state of the mushroom market, and great inconvenience in the mean time is felt by the dealers, who are holding all they have got, in the anticipation of a fall; while commodities are, of course, every moment getting heavier. The London and Westminster steam-boat Tulip, with letters from Milbank, was planted in the mud off Westminster for several hours, and those who looked for the correspondence, had to look much longer than could have been agreeable.