Desire sprang from her chair and ran toward the door, then back again
to her seat, with her hands pressed tightly on her heart; then back to
the door, as if her straining eye could pierce the darkness. It did,
God pity her! What did she see? Her little Willy, quite dead, lying on
a litter, carried by Mr. Moore and Orphy.

Poor little Willy! They had tracked him to an old shanty, in the woods,
where he had gathered some dry leaves and slept. There was the mark of
his little form upon the leaves. Then they tracked him out into the
woods, along, along, farther than one would have thought his little
feet could have carried him; and then they found him, with his little
head leaning against a tree, quite dead from exhaustion and hunger.

Poor Desire! There wasn't one of those nice old farmers who wouldn't
have given his farm to bring that little sleeper back to life. They
took his mother's cold hands in theirs, and chafed them, and bathed her
temples, and wept (strong men as they were) to think of the bitter
waking she would have. But God was merciful;--she never _did_ wake in
_this_ world. In Heaven she found her boy.

UNCLE JOLLY.

"Well, I declare! here it is New Year's morning again, and cold as
Greenland, too," said Uncle Jolly, as he poked his cotton night-cap out
of bed--"frost an inch thick on the windows, water all frozen in the
pitcher, and I an old bachelor. Heigho! nobody to give any presents
to--no little feet to come patting up to my bed to wish me 'A happy New
Year.' Miserable piece of business! Wonder what ever became of that
sister of mine who ran off with that poor artist? Wish she'd turn up
somewhere with two or three children for me to love and pet. Heigh-ho!
It's a miserable piece of business to be an old bachelor."

[Illustration: UNCLE JOLLY.]

And Uncle Jolly broke the ice in the basin with his frost-nipped
fingers, and buttoned his dressing gown tightly to his chin; then he
went down stairs, swallowed a cup of coffee, an egg, and a slice of
toast. Then he buttoned his surtout snugly up over them, and went out
the front door into the street.

Such a crowd as there was buying New Year's presents. The toy-shops
were filled with grandpas and grandmas, and aunts and uncles and
cousins. As to the shopkeepers, what with telling prices, answering
forty questions in a minute, and doing up parcels, they were as crazy
as a bachelor tending a crying baby.

Uncle Jolly slipped along over the i