Mr PLUSH, with some hesitation, said he had been _speculating in railroads_, and stated his winnings to have been thirty thousand pounds. He had commenced his speculations with twenty, borrowed from a fellow servant. He had dated his letters from the house in Berkeley Square, and humbly begged pardon of his master, for not having instructed the railway secretaries, who answered the applications, to apply at the area bell. Sir GEORGE, who was at breakfast, instantly rose, and shook Mr P. by the hand; LADY FLIMSY begged him to be seated, and partake of the breakfast which he had laid on the table; and has subsequently invited him to her grand _dejeuner_ at Richmond, where it was observed that Miss EMILY FLIMSY, her beautiful and accomplished seventh daughter, paid the lucky gentleman _marked attention_. We hear it stated that Mr P. is of very ancient family (HUGO DE LA PLUCHE came over with the Conqueror); and the new Brougham which he has started, bears the ancient coat of his race. He has taken apartments at the Albany, and is a director of thirty-three railroads. He purposes to stand for Parliament at the next general election, on decidedly conservative principles, which have always been the politics of his family. Report says, that, even in his humble capacity, Miss EMILY FLIMSY had remarked his high demeanour. Well, ‘none but the brave,’ say we, ‘deserve the fair.’—_Morning Paper._ This announcement will explain the following lines, which have been put into our box, with a West End post mark. If, as we believe, they are written by the young woman from whom the Millionaire borrowed the sum on which he raised his fortune, what heart would not melt with sympathy at her tale, and pity the sorrows which she expresses in such artless language? If it be not too late: if wealth have not rendered its possessor callous: if poor MARYANNE _be still alive_, we trust Mr PLUSH will do her justice. JEAMES OF BUCKLEY SQUARE. A HELIGY. Come, all ye gents vot cleans the plate, Come, all ye ladies maids so fair— Vile I a story vil relate Of cruel JEAMES of Buckley Square. A tighter lad, it is confest, Never valked vith powder in his air, Or vore a nosegay in his breast, Than andsum JEAMES of Buckley Square. O Evns! it vas the best of sights, Behind his Master’s coach and pair, To see our JEAMES in red plush tights, A driving hoff from Buckley Square. He vel became his hagwiletts, He cocked his at with _such_ an hair; His calves and viskers _vas_ siech pets, That hall loved _Jeames_ of Buckley Square. He pleased the hup stairs folks as vell, And o! I vithered vith despair, Misses _vould_ ring the parler bell, And call up JEAMES in Buckley Square. Both beer and sperrits he abhord, (Sperrits and beer I can’t a bear,) You would have thought he vas a lord, Down in our All in Buckley Square.