OUR RUPTURE WITH RUSSIA. We cannot help regretting that anything should be done by our military authorities to irritate the sore place which has been established in our relations with Russia. We, therefore, read with a degree of pain--which made us almost cry out, for we were really much hurt--that a letter dated June 27th, 1853, has gone out from the Horse Guards, prohibiting all general and staff officers from wearing Russia ducks by way of trousers. Whether this is meant as an insult to Russia we are unable to state; but we fear that Russia in the present sensitive state of affairs will regard this declaration of war against Russia ducks as an indication of a desire to provoke hostilities. * * * * * DIPLOMATIC PASTRY.--There is every probability that the dish heretofore known as NESSELRODE Pudding will, in future, be denominated Humble Pie. * * * * * [Illustration: THE CAMP _Captain Holster._ "HERE! HI! SOME ONE!--STOP MY _BED ROOM!_--HI!"] * * * * * A SEAMSTRESS THAT WON'T STARVE. The _Glasgow Chronicle_ describes a sewing machine, which has been introduced by a MR. DARLING. This DARLING will be considered a duck by some of our fashionable milliners; and his Jenny will be just the seamstress for their money, as she will ask no wages, want no food but a little oil, and be able to do without any rest whatever. Our own shirts, also, will be more comfortable to wear when we shall be enabled to think to ourselves that their manufacture has been ground out of wheels and cogs at small cost, and not out of human nerves and muscles for miserable pay. * * * * * DRINKING HEALTH. MR. HARKER will perhaps have the goodness to propose at the next great Civic banquet this toast:--"Extramural Interment: or the Incorporation of London with Gravesend." [Illustration: A GENTLE REPROOF. _Grenadier._ "I SAY BILL, I WONDER WHAT THEM LADIES WOULD SAY, IF WE WAS TO GO LOOKING INTO _THEIR_ ROOMS!"] * * * * * THE KEY TO THE RUSSIAN QUESTION. [Illustration: I] It seems after all that the great _casus belli_ between the Porte and Russia is "Who shall keep the key of the Greek Church?" The contest is to determine whether the key in question shall dangle on the watch-chain of the Greek, or hang on the bunch with the street-door and other keys of the Latin patriarch. We might as well allow the EMPEROR OF CHINA to interfere with us, and insist on appointing a protector of Temple Bar, for the purpose of deciding whether the QUEEN or the LORD MAYOR shall have the custody of that rusty old myth, the Key of the City. It is absurd, and yet awful to think, that all Europe should be kept on the _qui vive_ about a key of no real value, and which, in fact, nobody cares about.