be got out of him, although Pelle does his best; so he picks up
a handful of raisins and absconds.

Down at the harbor he boards a Swedish vessel, which has just
arrived with a cargo of timber. "Have you anything for us to do?"
he asks, holding one hand behind him, where his trousers have a
hole in them.

"Klausen's apprentice has just been here and got what there was,"
replied the skipper.

"That's a nuisance--you ought to have given it to us," says Pelle.
"Have you got a clay pipe?"

"Yes--just you come here!" The skipper reaches for a rope's end,
but Pelle escapes and runs ashore.

"Will you give me a thrashing now?" he cries, jeering.

"You shall have a clay pipe if you'll run and get me half a krone's
worth of chewing 'bacca."

"What will it cost?" asks Pelle, with an air of simplicity. The
skipper reaches for his rope's end again, but Pelle is off already.

"Five ore worth of chewing tobacco, the long kind," he cries, before
he gets to the door even. "But it must be the very best, because
it's for an invalid." He throws the money on the counter and puts
on a cheeky expression.