[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. * * * * * IN THE CAUSE OF CHARITY. SCENE--_Mona House, the Town Mansion of the_ Marquis of MANX, _which has been lent for a Sale of Work in aid of the "Fund for Superannuated Skirt-dancers," under the patronage of Royalty and other distinguished personages_. IN THE ENTRANCE HALL. _Mrs. Wylie Dedhead_ (_attempting to insinuate herself between the barriers_). Excuse me; I only want to pop in for a moment, just to see if a lady friend of mine is in there, that's _all!_ _The Lady Money-taker_ (_blandly_). If you will let me know your friend's name----? _Mrs. W. D._ (_splendide mendax_). She's assisting the dear Duchess. _Now_, perhaps, you will allow me to pass! _The L. M._ Afraid I can't, really. But if you mean Lady HONOR HYNDLEGGES--_she_ is the only lady at the Duchess's stall--I could send _in_ for her. Or of course, if you like to pay half-a-crown---- _Mrs. W. D._ (_hastily_). Thank you, I--I won't disturb her ladyship. I had no _idea_ there was any charge for admission, and--(_bristling_)--allow me to say I consider such regulations _most_ absurd. _The L. M._ (_sweetly, with a half glance at the bowl of coins on the table_). Quite _too_ ridiculous, ain't they? _Good_ afternoon! _Mrs. W. D._ (_audibly, as she flounces out_). If they suppose _I_'m going to pay half-a-crown for the privilege of being _fleeced_----! _Footman_ (_on steps, sotto voce, to confrère_). "Fleeced"! that's a good 'un, eh? _She_ ain't brought much wool in with _her!_ _His Confrère._ On'y what's stuffed inside of her ear. [_They resume their former impassive dignity._ IN THE VENETIAN GALLERY--_where the Bazaar is being held_.