Suddenly there was another sound. Some Millerstonian had opened a window or had closed a shutter and Katy took to her heels. It amused her to pretend once more that she was running away from John Hartman. In a moment she had opened the door of the village store and had flashed in. Round the stove sat four men, old and middle-aged; to the other three, Caleb Stemmel was holding forth dismally, his voice low, dreary as his mind, his mind dull as the dim room. Upon them Katy flashed in her scarlet attire, her thin legs in their black stockings completing her resemblance to a very gorgeous tanager or grosbeak. Katy had recovered from all her thrills; she was now pure mischief and impertinence. "Nothing," complained Caleb Stemmel, "nothing is any more like it was when I was young." "No, it is much better," commented the scarlet tanager. "We took always trouble." Caleb paid no heed to the impertinent interruption. "We had Christmas entertainments that were entertainments--speeches and cakes and apples and a Belsnickel. But these children and these teachers, they are too lazy and too good-for-nothing." Katy had no love for her teacher; she, too, considered him good-for-nothing; but she had less love for Caleb Stemmel. "We are going to have a Christmas entertainment that will flax [beat] any of yours, Caleb Stemmel," she boasted. "Yes, you will get up and say a few Dutch pieces and then you will go home." "Well, everything was Dutch when you were young. You ought to like that!" "Things should now be English," insisted Caleb. "But you are too lazy, all of you, from the teacher down. You will be pretty much ashamed of yourselves this year, that I can tell you." Katy was already halfway to the door, her black legs flying. She would waste no words on Caleb Stemmel. But now she turned and went back. Katy was curious. "Why this year?" "Because," teased Caleb. "That is a dumb answer! Why _because_?" "Because it is some one coming." "Who?" "A visitor." Caleb pronounced it "wisitor." "Pooh! What do I care for a 'wisitor'?" mocked Katy. "This is one that you care for!" "Who is it?" "Don't you wish you knew?" Katy stamped her foot. "If you don't tell, I'll throw you with snow when the snow comes," she threatened. Katy had respect for age in general, but not for Caleb Stemmel. Caleb did not answer until he saw that Danny Koser was about to tell. "It is a governor coming," he announced impressively. Katy drew a step closer, her face aglow. No eyes of tanager or grosbeak could have shone blacker against brilliant plumage. "Do you mean"--faltered Katy--"do you mean that my Uncle Daniel is coming home once, my Uncle Daniel Gaumer?" "The squire was here and he told us." Danny Koser was no longer to be restrained. "Then he went to your gran'pop. He got a letter, the squire did. What do you think of that now?"