This week I have had an interesting time. Listen here now: Wednesday Folkestad came and wanted to bring me with him home. He lives out at Asker; it is an hour’s train trip away from Christiania (Oslo). I came out to his house and was well-received. Mrs. Folkestad and the children have become Norwegian. They are coming out back to America on a trip, but will probably not stay there. Their little girls could speak almost no Norwegian when they came here- not as good as our Tulla (Ella)- and now they are scoring the highest in the school in Norwegian style. They have not forgotten their English either. Tell that to the children! I was well-received and talked and blabbled quite terribly much! But it is small for them, they are lonely. Their house (that they rent) is as far away as ours in Northfield.

When we traveled the next day back to Christiania, two gentlemen came into the train, whom Folkestad quickly stood up and greeted politely. The one was the poet Johan Bojer; the other was the poet Ronald Faugen, he is then one of the most promising critics among the youth in Skandinaven today. He is a young man, has written some books and now is editing a magazine. I was soon introduced. Johan Bojer was especially happy to meet me; he had heard much about me in America. Now he wanted to talk to me. Yes, I babbled awfully! He is as democratic as a person can be. He insisted that I and Folkestad and Ronald Faugen had to come visit him already that same afternoon. And that I had nothing against! I came there then; and it is the most beautiful experience I have had since I left you in Sioux Falls! It was both a brilliant and pleasant afternoon, just more pleasant than brilliant. It was set up to be pleasant for me. Bojer’s home is remarkable. You can’t believe how beautiful the house is! And so tastefully organized! The best part, then, is Mrs. Bojer. She is by far the rarest women I have met- tall and slender and dignified without trying to be. Her hair is almost as beautiful as sister Martha’s; but I nearly think it is more silvery in Mrs. Bojer’s. I got her to sit down at the table. Oh yes, I was elusive! But then everyone was so nice and kind that I could not sit there and just be elusive either. If you had been there, you would have without a doubt kicked me in the foot and whispered “Don’t wrinkle up your face so when you talk!”

And each time I remembered your warning, I tried to become calmer. We were there until one o’clock in the morning.