A year for trying,
And not for sighing;
A year for striving
And healthy thriving.
It’s coming, boys,
It’s almost here.
It’s coming, girls,
The grand New Year.
Mary Mapes Dodge.
THE BAD LITTLE GOBLIN’S NEW YEAR
Mary Stewart
Come, children dear, let’s sit on the floor around the fire, so, and watch those golden flames dancing and leaping. You see that very gay one just springing up the chimney? I know a story about him, a New Year’s story. Let’s snuggle up closer and look into the fire. You see that piece of coal black wood, there at the end? There was a horrid little goblin once who was as black as that bit of wood. His clothes were all black, his round cap looked like a bit of coal, his pointed shoes were jet black, and his face was dark with dirt and an ugly scowling expression. Altogether he was a horrid looking goblin, and he was just as hateful as he looked. There wasn’t a single person who liked him. The birds hated him because he would wait after dark when all the baby birds were cuddled down in the nest, fast asleep. Then he would pop up from under the nest where he had been hiding and cry, “Morning time, wake up!” and all the babies would cry, “Chirp, chirp, Daddy bring us our breakfast!” They opened their bills so wide that it took a long time to shut them and put the excited babies to sleep again. Once Blackie, that was the goblin’s name, dropped a bit of twig down into a baby’s open bill and the poor bird coughed so hard that he kept the birds in the nests around awake all night. Blackie chuckled with glee and went scurrying off on another prank.
While the mother bunnies were asleep he painted the tiny white flags they wear under their tails with brown mud from the marsh. When morning-time really did come and the mother bunnies woke up and called to their children to follow them, the little bunnies couldn’t see any white flags on their mothers’ tails to follow, and all got lost in the long grass. It took the whole day to gather them together, and still longer to get those flags clean again.
Blackie jumped for joy. The mother bunnies would have liked to reach him with their sharp claws, but he was too quick for them.
Then Blackie found the holes where the squirrels had hidden their nuts for the winter. It had taken months to gather them, but Blackie waited until they were out hunting again, and he carried all the nuts away and hid them in the roots of an old tree where they would never think of looking!