And then close to the window-pane the waving outline of many little heads clustered together. All the children would be on the look-out to-day, straining their eyes along the darkening path, for the first sign of his coming. For it was New Year's Eve. The sun would never rise again on the Old Year. Amid the snow-flakes it was falling quietly asleep. All day, as its last sands ran out, Willie had been thinking of the dying year and silently bidding it farewell. Rather wistfully he saw the daylight float away from it for ever. To-night it laid down the burden of its completed hours, and was fading back into the shadowy past. But for those children in the farm-house down yonder things were different. The glad New Year's morning that would rise to-morrow from beneath the snow-white pall of the Old Year was everything to them. The pack he carried was heavy with their New Year's gifts. Willie strove to mend his flagging pace, for he was tired. He had come far, very far, to-day, that the little ones might not be disappointed. Child-like, he rejoiced in the feathery snow-flakes that would prevent their seeing him until he was close at hand, and at the soft white carpet muffling his approaching footsteps, so that he might take them by surprise. It all fell out as Willie had imagined; only the children were too quick for him after all. The door in the deep porch flew open as he drew near, the red light streamed out brilliantly, and little feet danced into the snow. How many rosy laughing faces there were--how many merry voices! The children drew him in amongst them, the young ones were close to him, and the elders, just as happy, stood behind. All claimed to have seen Willie soonest. Roger was the first to grasp his hand, and bid him welcome--Lois said so--but then Lois gave every disputed point in Cousin Roger's favour now. Besides, Roger was so old and his legs were so long. 'We were all watching, Willie. We thought you would never come. We are so glad you have got safe over the moors in the snow.' 'And we all welcome you, old friend,' said Lois, the tall, graceful maiden, holding both his hands. 'We have so much to tell you, and Roger and I----' She did not finish, but Roger put his hand proudly on her shoulder, and their two faces told the rest. So it was a very joyous meeting. And on that evening Wandering Willie told them the story of his life. He had never told that story before, and no one will hear it from Willie's lips again. It came about in this way.