When they were warmed and dried, and all their wraps put
away, Grandfather and Grandmother Winkle looked around the
pleasant kitchen; and Grandmother said to Grandfather,
"Our Neltje is certainly a good house-wife." Neltje was Vrouw
Vedder. And Grandfather said,
"There's only one better one, my dear." He meant Grandmother
Winkle.
By and by they all sat down to dinner, and I can't begin to tell
you how good it was! It makes one hungry just to think of it.
They had roast goose and onions and turnips and cabbage. They had
bread and butter, and cheese, and sweet cakes.
"Everything except the flour in the bread, we raised ourselves,"
said Vrouw Vedder. "The hens gave us the eggs; and the cow, the
butter. The Twins helped Father and me to take care of the
chickens, and to milk the cow, and to make the butter; so it is
our very own St. Nicholas feast that we are eating."
"A farmer's life is the best life there is," said Father Vedder.
They sat a long time at the table; and Grandfather told stories
about when he was a boy; and Father Vedder told how Kit and Kat
learned to skate; and Kit and Kat told how they saw St. Nicholas
riding on a white horse, and how he sent them the very things
they wanted; and they all enjoyed themselves very much.
After dinner, Grandmother Winkle sat down in the chimney corner
and called Kit and Kat.
"Come here," she said, "and I'll tell you some stories about St.
Nicholas."
The Twins brought two little stools and sat beside her, one on
each side.
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