One morning,—it was New Year’s Day,—Blackie slept longer than usual. He was curled up inside his log, so sound asleep that even the joggling of his home being carried upstairs didn’t waken him. Then he was turned upside down, and, opening his eyes, he peeked out of the crack and found that the log was about to be thrown onto the blazing fire! Crash! it went. How very warm it was, and then Blackie heard the children laughing. He poked his head out and saw them all sitting in front of the fire, watching the blaze. All around Blackie red and yellow flames were dancing, so gay, so golden, so happy that Blackie forgot to be frightened. “I want to be gay, too!” he cried. “I want to laugh with the children and dance with the flames.” His log caught fire, blazed up and out sprang Blackie,—a little black goblin no longer!
Instead, he was the shiniest, most dancing golden flame that you ever saw! For a few moments he just danced up and down with delight, then, waving and bowing to the children, he cried, “Happy New Year! Happy New Year!” and sprang up the chimney. The children’s glad voices echoed after him.
When he reached the top he saw a glorious sight. The sun shining on the snow and ice turned the world into a sparkling Fairy-land, and the sky was as blue as forget-me-nots, or Polly’s eyes, or the very bluest thing you have ever seen. Blackie danced with the sunbeams over the glittering ice until he almost ran into a flock of little birds huddled down in the snow, too cold to fly. Their feathers were ruffled and they looked very miserable. “Come play with me!” he cried, dancing around them. He was so gay and so beautiful that they forgot the cold, and flew in circles around him. “Come and join us!” he cried to a group of rabbits who were hunched up upon the snow, half-frozen. They hopped along slowly toward him and then—they, too, forgot the cold while they played games with the golden goblin and the birds, until they were all as merry as the sunbeams. “Happy New Year! Happy New Year!” they called to each other, and to the twinkling flame goblin.
Then Blackie saw some squirrels curled up on the branches of a tree so miserable they couldn’t even make-believe scamper. “What is the matter; do you want some nuts?” he cried. “Follow me!” And away he darted to the roots of the tree where, as a naughty little goblin, he had hidden their winter store. The squirrels followed slowly, but when they saw their treasure their eyes sparkled, their teeth chattered with delight, and they scampered back and forth from the tree root to their own holes, their paws full of nuts. They were as gay as Blackie himself. “Happy New Year! Happy New Year!” they cried to their gleaming friend, whom they never dreamed was the bad little goblin they had chased away the autumn before!
So all day and for many days the goblin danced and sang and helped people and birds and the wood creatures. He twinkled as merrily in the sunshine out of doors as he did when he danced in the fire, warming the children and singing them songs.
“It’s like Happy New Year every day when the goblin is here!” cried the children, dancing as gayly on the hearth rug as the sprite was dancing within the fire. “There he is now, do you see him? He is dancing and crackling and crying to all of us, ‘Happy New Year, Happy New Year!’”
Let others looke for Pearle and Gold,
Tissues, or Tabbies manifold;
One only lock of that sweet Hay
Whereon the blessed Babie lay,
Or one poore Swadling-clout, shall be
The richest New-Yeere’s Gift to me.
Robert Herrick.