“But what is worse,” continued the dame, “in one big kruller, as a surprise, I did hide a ring of gold sent to Gretel by her godmother in Holland, and that too is whisked away.”
At this Gretel also began to bewail the loss, and suggested that perhaps little black Josie, Sophy’s son, was the miscreant.
“If so it be, to the whipping-post shall he go!” cried the enraged Dutchwoman, starting for the kitchen; but before she reached the door Katrina exclaimed, “No, mother, no; Josie is not the one.”
“Why, mine Katrina, what canst thou know of this?” asked Mynheer Van Twinkle, in amazement.
“I know—I know who has taken the cakes,” stammered the blushing girl; “but tell I cannot now.”
“Not tell!” gasped her mother. “Why and wherefore?”
“Because my promise I have given. But when the night comes, then shall you know all.”
“Foolishness is this, Katrina,” cried the good housewife, who was fast losing her temper as well as her cakes, “and at once I command you to say who has my New-Year krullers.”
“And my ring from Rotterdam,” added Gretel.
“But that I cannot. A lie would it be. Oh, my vader, canst thou not me trust until the nightfall?”