AN ARTISTIC "FROST."
[According to the Daily Telegraph, the Saffron Hill street-musicians are complaining that their barrel-organs are frozen.]
Macaroni Carlo sings:—
Ah, che la morte ognora—
Basta! no more can I play!
So ai nostri monti ancora
Ritorneremo to-day!
Ebbene, il mio padrone—
I bid 'im an' Londra good-bye!
'E may grind out 'imself 'is canzone
For never again will I try!
E troppo! my barrel—'e's frosty,
An' round I can not make 'im turn!
The music of Verdi and Tosti
No longer a soldo can earn!
"My Honey!" won't thaw, and there's "Daisy"
An icicle frozen right through!
So addì, Inghilterra, paese
Where artists have no more to do!
Return to the Classics.—There is a talk of reviving Olympian Games. Athens or Paris to begin. The competitors to be cosmopolitan. England will send her prize boxer or wrestler, and if crowned victor, let him, after the manner of the ancient Greeks, be free of taxes and rates for the remainder of his life. How the competition will grow. The Smiths, the Browns, all the patres familias will be urged by the matres to go forth and take part in the contest.