Buttercup Gold | Page 3

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Etext scanned by Dianne Bean of Phoenix, Arizona.

BUTTERCUP GOLD AND OTHER STORIES
by Ellen Robena Field

Copyrighted, 1894, by the Bangor (Maine) Kindergarten Association
This book is lovingly dedicated to the dear kindergarten children, and
particularly to my little friend, Alice Caro Wing.

"Children are God's apostles, day by day sent forth preach of love and
hope and peace."--Lowell.

"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.

The Little New Year
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