Mamselle Lovisa, wondering what all this talk meant, came out to the kitchen. Instantly she caught sight of the fisherman and the plate of slom she threw up her hands and exclaimed in despair: “Good Lord! Is that awful stuff coming in now again!” It was a great disappointment to the little girls that Aunt Lovisa did not share their delight. Still, she must have had some appreciation of the auspicious event, for she said something in a low tone to the housekeeper, who smiled and nodded approval. Whereupon the children and the maids were told not to let Lieutenant Lagerlöf know the slom had come; it was to be a surprise for his supper. When the three little girls heard that, they were gladder than ever. Their father was their best friend and playfellow; there was nothing too good for him! They felt very important now, and not for anything would they leave the kitchen. They begged to be allowed to clean the fish, and knew from past years how it should be done: With one stroke you cut off the head, with another you drew out the “innards.” The tiny fish had no scales or sharp bones. If you cut off the tail it was a sign you didn’t know how slom should be treated. Even after the fishes were cleaned the children would not leave them out of their sight. They watched the housekeeper wash them, dip them in flour, and put them in the frying pan. It wouldn’t do to throw slom in the pan just any way. The little fishes had to be laid down very carefully, one by one, close together, none overlapping, and fried hard, so that they all stuck together. Then, with a flip of the pancake-spade, they were turned over. When well browned on both sides, they were covered with a hard round oat-cake, and then turned out of the pan so that the slom lay on top of the bread. The housekeeper told the children that was the way their grandmother had fixed it. In the old mistress’s time they used to set before each person at table a round of slom on an oat-cake, for in those days they were not so well off for plates as now. All the while the slom was frying the children were on pins and needles lest their father should come into the kitchen. Every other minute they ran out in the hall and opened the door to the living room a wee bit to see whether he sat quietly reading his newspaper. When he got up to go for his usual evening walk, their hearts were in their mouths. Oh, dear! What if he should take a notion to go out by the kitchen way----? Later, at supper, the three little girls could hardly contain themselves. If they but glanced at their father they began to titter. It was hardest for the littlest girl, who had to say grace. In the middle of the prayer she gave a little chirrup like a sparrow when it sees a grain of corn. The Lieutenant was about to ask what had come over her when his eyes fell on the slom right by his plate. His face lit up.