But to clean such a lot of small fish was no light task! The housemaids had to leave off spinning and weaving to sit in the kitchen cleaning slom. The three little girls were no longer to be seen in the schoolroom. It was not for fun they cleaned slom now, but to help the grown-ups. Fru Lagerlöf and Mamselle Lovisa put aside their other work to give a hand. But it was a bit of a change for them all--a little departure from the usual routine. The housekeeper did not help clean fish, she stood at the stove the whole day frying it. Before long she began to complain of the quantities of butter the fish was taking. The butter-tub had been full only a few days before, and she could already see the bottom. That was the first break in the general satisfaction. The family had slom for breakfast and slom for supper; but thus far at dinner there was the usual Värmland midday fare--corned beef or pork, or herring-balls, or fried ham, or sausage, or whatever else there was on hand. But such fare was not to the taste of Lieutenant Lagerlöf. One day when he was served meat that had lain in brine since autumn, he lost all patience. “I don’t see why we should sit here and eat salt food when the pantry is full of nice fresh fish,” he flung out. “But that’s always the way of these fine housekeepers; they feed the homefolk on salt stuff and let the fresh things stand on the shelves and spoil--waiting for company.” That was a sharp rap at his sister. But Mamselle Lovisa took it calmly; she was too fond of her brother to be offended by anything he might say. She meekly answered that she had never heard of any one’s setting slom before guests. “I know, Lovisa, that you are too refined to eat slom. You have been out in the great world, and know how things ought to be. But I don’t see why we back here at Mårbacka need bother ourselves about what they do in Karlstad or Åmål.” A light broke in on Mamselle Lovisa. “But surely you don’t want slom for dinner, too!” she exclaimed, as if such a thing were unprecedented. “Certainly I’ll eat slom whenever I can get it. Why do you suppose I buy it every day, if I’m not to have any myself?” After that, they had slom morning, noon, and night; which was not a happy thought on the part of the Lieutenant. There is no denying that slom is a nice-tasting fish, but it has an unpleasant odour. Not in the sense of being tainted; but it is evil-smelling from the moment it comes out of the water. However, all that disappears in the frying. But those who have to handle the raw fish cannot escape, for it is an odour that clings. Do what you will, it stays by you. Everything you touch smells of slom. Soon all but the Lieutenant began to sicken of slom. They took smaller portions at each meal, and sighed as they sat down at table and saw the everlasting slom set before them again.