It was a beautiful night. The rich shades of the sunset fighting the warm colours of the flames, the gurgling of the water, and the surging of the peasants' boats, or the swish of their oars as they rowed to the festival in gay holiday attire, was something to be remembered—something picturesque and almost barbaric. The surroundings were poetical, the scene weird, the music delightful, and a glowing lustre overspread it all as the ascending flames shed lurid lights on the faces of the spectators, while the rocks on which we stood reflected the warm colours caught by the trunks of the pine-trees, whose tops soared heavenwards as though trying to kiss the fleeting clouds.
Laughter and merriment rent the air, as youth mingled with age, riches with poverty, in true happiness, for was it not Juhannus-ilta—a night when all must be gay!
Gradually, as the time wore on, the fires burnt low, the lights and reflections became less and less distinct on the water, the shadows of evening fell, and the dew of night was in the air; then, and not till then, did we repair to a huge room adjoining the house, used for the grandchildren to play in during summer, or for weddings and such like festivals, and here the family, the guests, the servants, and the peasants danced. It was like a tenants' ball at a Scotch castle or Irish domain, with a touch of greater novelty. Finnish dances are strange; a young man spies a young woman, he rushes at her, seizes her by the waist, dances lustily, and then lets her go as if she were a hot potato. But that night there was a hero—a real live hero—the native of a neighbouring village, who had been away in America for seven years, and just returned rich and prosperous, and full of adventures, to his fatherland. His advent had been awaited with keen interest by all the village maids; rivalry for his favours ran rife. Every girl in the place was dying to talk to him, to dance with him, and he, in return, told them "how beautiful every woman was in America, how they talked, and sang, and danced, and laughed, and how America was enchanting," until all the maids grew jealous.
We slipped off to bed at midnight, tired after our tedious journey, and anxious to read quietly the bundles of letters from folk at home, which had been awaiting our return, but the bond-dans went on till breakfast-time, for a Finn who cannot dance the jenka all through the midsummer night is not considered worthy of his country.
The festivals continued all the next day for those who were not too sleepy to enjoy them.
CHAPTER X
WOMEN AND EDUCATION
Before describing our own life in a haunted castle, with its joys and its fears, we must pause and reflect on two of the most important factors in Finnish life—the position of women, and the excellence of education. For it is the present advancement of both that will make a future for Suomi, and even to-day can teach us much.
In 1890 the population of Finland numbered two and a half millions, which included—
| Females | 1,208,599 |
| Males | 1,171,541 |
| Total | 2,380,140 |
In 1908 the figures were—