Professor Twig starts to cry. At the age of only sixteen he could boast of having read the four great Norwegian writers. ‘Read the four greats!’ he said to his sister, who was studying Home Economics and had been taught that the four greats were onion, leeks, potatoes and carrots. It is not until now as he is nearing fifty that Professor Twig begins to have doubts. Perhaps onion, leeks, potatoes and carrots really are more useful than Ibsen, Bjørnson, Lie and Kielland, he muses, then stops himself. What use is literature to Professor Twig now? He no longer knows if he can hope for a miracle.