There is a song to which we have alluded before, called "_Annie Laurie_," being sung at all the Mansion House dinners; and though ANNIE is the name in common use, there can be no doubt that PETER is the party whom the ballad is designed to flatter. We have therefore engaged our own Laureate in the graceful task of fixing on the head of the LAURIES the honour which had been conferred on ANNIE, by a poet evidently unconscious of the "coming" Alder-"man." The Mansion House is bonnie when dinners are not few; And it's there that PETER LAURIE gave me his promise true, Gave me his promise true that I his guest should be; And for Old SIR PETER LAURIE I'd lay me doun and dee. His neckcloth's like the snaw-drift; his frill like down of swan; His watch-chain is the smartest electro e'er shone on, Electro e'er shone on! And green is his coatee; And for Old SIR PETER LAURIE I'd lay me doun and dee. Like lead on the pavement dropping is the fa' of his heavy feet; And like winds in winter blowing, his voice on the judgment seat, His voice on the judgment seat! And, though he frightens me, For Old SIR PETER LAURIE I'd lay me doun and dee. * * * * * WONDERS OF THE DEEP. We paid a visit to the Regent's Park Zoological Gardens the other day, for the purpose of noticing the collection of Mollusca, Zoophytes, &c., and very much regret to find it incomplete. There are specimens from the German Ocean and the Bristol Channel, but none from the Sees of London, Durham, Rochester, or Salisbury, the rapacity of whose tenants is so well known, that there is no doubt, could their destructive propensities be as clearly seen as those now exhibiting, the very Sees themselves would be drained to stop their depredations. On inquiring the reason of the absence of so interesting a collection, we were told that although a variety of nets, such as the Ecclesiastical Commission, WHISTON'S Inquiries, and others, have been tried, they have never succeeded in bringing these very recondite creatures above the surface, for when they perceive their approach to public gaze, they become so alarmed, and struggle so violently, as always to succeed in escaping to their natural shelter among the riches deposited at the bottom of their Sees. The most rapacious among them is said to be the "Episcopus," as only one of them can be found in a See. This will not cause surprise, for it has been ascertained that £10,000 per annum is devoured by a single specimen. The Episcopus is always attended by a crowd of Rectors, Canons, and Vicars, who are all more or less grabiferous. These curious animals are said to possess a peculiarity wanting in all other species, that of ubiquity; as they are supposed to be able to be in several places at once. * * * * * SHOCKING LANGUAGE.