A Western Place Hunter.—A friend writing from Washington early in March, gives us this pleasant sketch of a “ Sucker” office seeker : “ Dickens might draw some laughable caricatures from the live specimens of office hunters now on hand here. The new President has just advised them all to go home and leave their papers behind them, and such a scattering you never saw ! One fellow came here from Illinois, and was introduced to a wag, who he was told had great influence at court, and who, although destitute of any such pretensions, kept up the delusion for the sake of the joke. The Sucker addressed the man of influence something in this wise : “ Now, stranger, look at them papers. Them names is the fust in our town. There’s Deacon Stiles ; there aint a piouser man in all the country ; and there’s John Rogers, our shoe-maker ; he made them boots, and a better pair never tramped over these diggins. You would’nt think them soles had walked three hundred miles of Hoosier mud, but they have though, and are sound yet. Everybody in town knows John Rogers; just you go out to Illinois and ask him about me ; you’ll find out how I stand. Then you ask Jim Tarner, our constable what I did for the party ; he’ll tell you I was a screamer at the polls. Now I’ve come all the way from Illinois, and on foot too, most of the way, to see if I can have justice. They wanted me to take a town office at home, but I must have something that pays beforehand ; such as them chargees as they call ‘em. I haint got but seven dollars left, and I can’t wait ; just get me one of them chargees, will ye ? Tell the old man how ‘tis—he’ll do it. Fact is, he must ; I’ve airnt the office ; d—d if I haint.’ ”