It is not easy to say how the seventeenth of August, which was Lieutenant Lagerlöf's birthday, came to be the great day that it was. But one can imagine that with so many gifted persons all living in a little place like East Åmtervik, it was really necessary that they should have a chance, at least once a year, to show what they could do.
When, for example, there were three such fine orators as Engineer Noreen of Herrestad, Senator Nils Andersson of Bavik, and Merchant Teodor Nilsson of Visteberg, the first of whom went in for the pathetic, the second for the profound, and the third for the poetic, it would have been a great pity had they never been heard elsewhere than at small parties and town meetings.
And with a verse writer, too, like Sexton Melanoz at one's command! Days on end he had to sit in the schoolroom and hear the youngsters spell, stammer, and stumble through the intricate mazes of the Swedish language. Surely he needed to let this maltreated
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