Where the wild beasts wander.
But tell us now,
Whene'er you roam,
Do you not find the best is home
Of all the lands you've looked upon,
Lasse, Little Lasse?

When the dreams had sung their song they skipped away, and Nukku
Matti carried Lasse back to the boat. He lay there for a long
time quite still, and he still heard the frying-pan frizzling at
home of the fire, the frizzling was very plain, Little Lasse
heard it quite near him; and so he woke up and rubbed his eyes.

There he lay in the boat, where he had fallen asleep. The wind
had turned, and the boat had drifted out with one wind and
drifted in with another while Little Lasse slept, and what Lasse
thought was frizzling in a frying-pan was the low murmur of the
waves as they washed against the stones on the shore. But he was
not altogether wrong, for the clear blue sea is like a great pan
in which God's sun all day makes cakes for good children.

Little Lasse rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and looked around
him. Everything was the same as before; the crow in the birch
tree, the cat on the grass, and the pea-shell fleet on the shore.
Some of the ships had foundered, and some had drifted back to
land. Hercules had come back with its cargo from Asia, The Flea
had arrived from Polynesia, and the other parts of the world were
just where they were before.

Little Lasse did not know what to think. He had so often been in