"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:-

"Oh, I am the little New Year; ho! ho!
Here I come tripping it over the snow,
Shaking my bells with a merry din;
So open your door and let me in." 

Old Joe, hearing some noise outside, came to the door, and when
he saw all the nice gifts the tears ran down his cheeks for
gladness; and as he carried them into the house, he whispered:
"The dear Lord has been here to-night." 

"Where am we going now?" asked Maurice, as they ran down the