east to west, immediately after it is known to the conspirators that
they have put themselves in communication with the Bleater's London
Correspondent. It is now indignantly demanded, by whom are they so
tampered with? It is now indignantly demanded, who took the
responsibility of concealing the indisposition of those Royal
children from their Royal and illustrious parents, and of bringing
them down from their beds, disguised, expressly to confound the
London Correspondent of the Tattlesnivel Bleater? Who are those
persons, it is again asked? Let not rank and favour protect them.
Let the traitors be exhibited in the face of day!

Lord John Russell is in this conspiracy. Tell us not that his
Lordship is a man of too much spirit and honour. Denunciation is
hurled against him. The proof? The proof is here.

The Time is panting for an answer to the question, Will Lord John
Russell consent to take office under Lord Palmerston? Good. The
London Correspondent of the Tattlesnivel Bleater is in the act of
writing his weekly letter, finds himself rather at a loss to settle
this question finally, leaves off, puts his hat on, goes down to the
lobby of the House of Commons, sends in for Lord John Russell, and
has him out. He draws his arm through his Lordship's, takes him
aside, and says, "John, will you ever accept office under
Palmerston?" His Lordship replies, "I will not." The Bleater's
London Correspondent retorts, with the caution such a man is bound
to use, "John, think again; say nothing to me rashly; is there any
temper here?" His Lordship replies, calmly, "None whatever." After
giving him time for reflection, the Bleater's London Correspondent
says, "Once more, John, let me put a question to you. Will you ever
accept office under Palmerston?" His Lordship answers (note the