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Project Gutenberg's Buttercup Gold and Other Stories, by Ellen Robena Field This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org Title: Buttercup Gold and Other Stories Author: Ellen Robena Field Posting Date: September 21, 2008 [EBook #1978] Release Date: November, 1999 Language: English Character set encoding: ASCII *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BUTTERCUP GOLD AND OTHER STORIES *** Produced by Dianne Bean 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
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