A few days ago I was sitting in the train, bound for Stockholm. I began to think of all the other times I had come up to Stockholm. It had usually been to do something difficult ─ to pass examinations or to find a publisher for my manuscript. And now I was coming to receive the Prize in Literature. That, too, I thought would be difficult.

      But then I thought of my father and felt a deep sorrow that he should no longer be alive. I knew that no one would have been happier than he to hear that I had been awarded the Nobel Prize.

      So light and soundless was the movement of the train that I could hardly imagine I was on this earth. And so I began to daydream: "Just think, if I were going to meet Father in Paradise!" The train went gliding on, and my thoughts racead of it. Father will certainly be sitting in a rocking chair on a veranda. He will d ahe get up and walk toward me. "Good day, my daughter, I am very glad to see you."

      "You are sure there is nothing amiss?" he will ask suddenly. "No, Father, all is well," I will reply. "I have come to ask you for advice, Father," I will say, "for I am very heavily in debt."

      "I am afraid you will not get much help from me in this matter", Father will reply. "One may well say of this place that it has everything except money."

      "Ah, it is not money that I owe, Father." "But that's even worse," Father will say. "Begin right at the beginning, Daughter."

      "It is not too much to ask that you should help, Father, for it was all your fault right from the beginning. Do you remember how you would let us read Tegnér and Runeberg and Andersen? It was then that I first fell into debt. Father, how shall I ever repay them for teaching me to love fairy tales and sagas of heroes, the land we live in and all of our human life, in all its wretchedness and glory?"

      A wonderful look will come into Father's eyes. "I am glad that I got you into this debt," he will say. "But don't you understand, Father, that I am also heavily in debt to those who have formed and moulded our language into the good instrument and taught me to use it. And, then, am I not in debt to those who have written in prose and in verse before my time, who have turned writing into art, the torchbearers, the pathfinders ─ do I not owe them anything?"

      "Yes, yes", Father will say. "You are right, yours is a heavy debt but, never fear, we will find a way."

      "You don't realize that I am also in debt to my readers. What would have become of me if no one had wanted to read my books? And don't forget all those who have written of me. I owe them gratitude, Father, both for their praise and for their censure."

      "Yes, yes", Father will say, and I shall see him look a little less calm.

      "Remember all who have helped me, Father!" I shall say. "Think of my faithful friends, who tried to open doors for me when no one dared to believe in me. Think of those who have cared for and protected my work! All the love that has come to me, the honours, the distinctions!"

Father has lowered his head and does not look so hopeful any more. "I agree, Daughter, it is not going to be easy to find help for you but, surely, there is nothing more you owe anyone?"

      "Yes, Father, my biggest debt has not yet come. That is why I had to come to you for advice," and then I will tell him all about this.

      "I just cannot believe the Academy ...," Father will say but, looking at me and seeing my face, he will know it is all true. And, then, every wrinkle in his face will tremble and tears will come into his eyes.

      "What am I to say to those who put my name up for the Prize and to those who have made the decision ─ think, Father, it is not only honour and money they are bestowing on me. They have shown that they have trust enough in me to single me out before the whole world. How shall I repay this debt?"

      Father will sit and still no words will come as he thinks. Then, drying tears of joy from his eyes, he will bang down his fist on the arm of the rocking chair and say, "I will not rack my brains about problems that no one in Heaven or on earth can solve. I am too happy that you have been given the Nobel Prize to worry about anything!"

      Your Majesties, Your Royal Highnesses, Ladies and Gentlemen ─ having received no better answer than this to all my questions, it only remains to me to ask you to join me in the toast which I have the honour to propose to the Swedish Academy.

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