Buttercup Gold, and Other Stories

Come to me, O, ye children! And whisper in my ear What the birds and winds are singing In your sunny atmosphere. Ye are better than all the ballads That were ever sung or said; For ye are living poems And all the rest are dead. —Longfellow.
And Nature, the old nurse, took The child upon her knee, Saying: 'Here is a story-book Thy Father has written for thee. —Longfellow.
One cold morning Maurice awoke from his dreams and sat up in bed and listened. He thought he heard a knock at his window; but though the moon was shining brightly, Jack Frost had been so busily at work that Maurice could not see through the thickly painted panes. So he crept sleepily out of bed, and opened the window, and whispered: Who is there?
I am, replied a tinkling voice. I am the little New Year, ho! ho! And I've promised to bring a blessing to everyone. But I am such a little fellow I need somebody to help me distribute them. Won't you please come out and help?
Oh, it's so cold! said Maurice; I'd rather go back to my warm bed; and he shivered as Jack Frost, who was passing, tickled him under the chin with one of the frosty paint brushes.
Never mind the cold, urged the New Year; please help me.
So Maurice hurried into his clothes, and was soon out in the yard. There he found a rosy-cheeked boy a little smaller than himself, pulling a large cart which seemed to be loaded with good things. On one side of this cart was painted the word Love, and on the other Kindness. As soon as the New Year saw Maurice he said, Now please take hold and help me pull; and down the driveway and up the hill they travelled until they came to an old shanty.
Here is where I make my first call, said the New Year. Maurice looked wonderingly at him. Why, nobody lives here but an old colored man who works for us; and he hasn't any children! He needs my help, said the New Year; for grown people like to be thought of just as much as children do. You shovel out a path to his door, while I unload some of my blessings; and the little hands went busily at work, piling up warm clothing, wood, and a new year's dinner, the New Year singing as he worked:—