"That was a great day, my boy."
"Yes, sir, it was."
"And it comes once a year."
"Why, sure."
"Ahem—" in some confusion, "I mean you celebrate once a year."
"Sure, we celebrate every second of August, and it comes every year."
"Quite right, quite right; always recall with appropriate exercises the great events in your country's history." The Professor peered benignly over his glasses at the boy and continued kindly but firmly:
"Now, my boy, do you go to school?"
"Yes, sir."
"Very good. Now can you tell me why the people of Fremont celebrate the second of August?"