He shook the rope that held the boat, and, strange to say, the
rope became loose. Ditsch, ratsch, a man is a man, and so Little
Lasse manned the boat.

Now he would row--and he could row, for he had rowed so often on
the step sat home, when the steps pretended to be a boat and
father's big stick an oar. But when Little Lasse wanted to row
there were no oars to be found in the boat. The oars were locked
up in the boat-house, and Little Lasse had not noticed that the
boat was empty. It is not so easy as one thinks to row to Asia
without oars.

What could Little Lasse do now? The boat was already some
distance out on the sea, and the wind, which blew from land, was
driving it still further out. Lasse was frightened and began to
cry. But there was no one on the shore to hear him. Only a big
crow perched alone in the birch tree; and the gardener's black
cat sat under the birch tree, waiting to catch the crow. Neither
of them troubled themselves in the least about Little Lasse, who
was drifting out to sea.

Ah! how sorry Little Lasse was now that he had been disobedient
and got into the boat, when father and mother had so often
forbidden him to do so! Now it was too late, he could not get
back to land. Perhaps he would be lost out on the great sea. What
should he do?

When he had shouted until he was tired and no one heard him, he
put his two little hands together and said, 'Good God, do not be
angry with Little Lasse.' And then he went to sleep. For although