"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?"
"And what," jeered Caleb Stemmel,—"what will the governor think of Dutch Millerstown and the Dutch entertainment and Dutch Katy; what—"