without stating his errand, or even saying good-morning, he strode across the floor to the big table and deposited a small basket done up in a blue-checked cotton cloth. Then, stepping back to the door, he stood with head proudly erect, and waited for what was to follow.
If the housekeeper and the maids were the only ones in the kitchen, he could stand a long while unnoticed; for they would not permit themselves to show any signs of curiosity. But if Lieutenant Lagerlöf's little daughters chanced to be there, they were over by the basket at a bound, eagerly untying the cover to see what was under it.
And they found a little porcelain plate, edged round with a blue landscape, which they recognized as having seen every year at this season as far back as they remembered. On the plate was a small mound of slom—some forty or fifty fishes.
Now slom when properly prepared is a tasty fish, but for all that it is considered rather common food. At the other manors in the district it was looked upon as poor man's fare, but not so at Mårbacka. Lieutenant Lagerlöf was such a lover of fish he would hardly eat anything else the year round. After the eelpout had finished spawning, in February, he had to be satisfied with such things as stockfish, dried pike, salt salmon, salt whitefish, to say nothing of the everlasting herring! So every day now he wondered if the slom would be along soon.
