It is quite proper, but very distressing, that Ireland should know all the outrages perpetrated and planned upon her dearest interests. Not a day can elapse that is not notched, like ROBINSON CRUSOE'S, with a new insult from the Saxon. It ought to have been sufficient that the Camp at Chobham was commanded in order to destroy the Dublin Exhibition; the tents being pitched as strongly as possible in outrageous contrast with DARGAN'S Crystal Palace. But no: a certain illustrious personage--with whom it is notorious the sea does not agree--in order to frustrate an intended visit to Dublin, went and caught the measles! Fortunately, however, he is now convalescent; left without a spot, and consequently without an excuse. * * * * * AN IMPOSSIBLE COMMISSARIAT. The EMPEROR OF RUSSIA pretends to say that he will provide his troops, now occupying the Danubian principalities, with rations. How is it possible that any such promise can be kept by an old despot, who is so very irration-al? * * * * * ANOTHER POTATO BLIGHT FOR "THE KILKENNY CAT." The Saxon has again cast his pestiferous blight upon one of Ireland's chosen potatoes; having withered the patriot MURPHY into an Insolvent Commissioner! * * * * * NUTS FOR NOTES AND QUERIES. [Illustration] There is a fine field opened to the editor and contributors of _Notes and Queries_ by the prominence just now being given to the names of Wallachia and Moldavia. We shall leave Wallachia to our contemporary--merely observing by the way that it may have been founded by the WALLACK family--but we have taken a fancy to Moldavia, and shall speculate a little on its origin. We are inclined to regard the first syllable, MOL, as a clear corruption of MARY; and there can be no doubt, in the world that davia is no other than DAVIS, who was probably some relation to the identical DAVIS, whose most unpleasant Straits have conferred upon him such extensive notoriety. Moldavia may, therefore, be regarded as the discovery of one MARY DAVIS; but which one is a little bit of mystery--a sort of bone that we generously throw to our old friend _Notes and Queries_ to "lazily mumble" over during the hot season. * * * * * OUR ANCIENT NICHOLAS. Russia, having crossed the Pruth, Teaches us a bit of truth; Here we have our precious CZAR Lighting up the flames of war. He that kept all Europe quiet Is involving her in riot, On hostilities we border With this vaunted man of order. Who were right and who were wrong, We, who hissed him all along, Or the folks that cheered and shouted After him who women knouted? Now, perhaps, you are disgusted With the tyrant whom you trusted, Oh, unworthy sons of Britain! --Don't you feel a little bitten? * * * * * A KEY TO A DIFFICULTY.