said, "he is to be your husband," and she
bowed low in the water, for she wished to be very polite to the little
maiden.

"Croak, croak," was all the young toad could say, as he looked at his
pretty little bride.

Then they took away the tiny little bed, and Thumbelina was left all
alone.

How the tears stained her pretty little face! How fast they fell into
the stream! Even the fish as they swam hither and thither thought, "How
it rains today," as the tiny drops fell thick and fast.

They popped up their heads and saw the forlorn little maiden.

"She shall not marry the ugly toad," they said, as they looked with
eager eyes at the pretty child. "No, she shall not marry the ugly toad."

But what could the little fish do to help Thumbelina?

They found the green stem which held the leaf on which Thumbelina sat.
They bit it with their little sharp teeth, and they never stopped
biting, till at last they bit the green stem through; and away, down the
stream, floated the leaf, carrying with it little Thumbelina.

"Free, free!" she sang, and her voice tinkled as a chime of fairy bells.
"Free, free!" she sang merrily as she floated down the stream, away, far
away out of reach of the ugly old toad and her ugly son.

And as she floated on, the little wild birds sang round her, and on the
banks the little wild hare-bells bowed to her.

Butterflies were flitting here and there in the sunshine. A pretty
little white one fluttered onto the leaf on which sat Thumbelina. He
loved the tiny maiden so well that he settled down beside her.

Now she was quite happy! Birds around her, flowers near her, and the
water gleaming like gold in the summer sunshine. What besides could
little Thumbelina wish?

She took off her sash and threw one end of it round the butterfly. The
other end she fastened firmly to the leaf. On and on floated the leaf,
the little maiden and the butterfly.

Suddenly a great cockchafer buzzed along. Alas! he caught sight of
little Thumbelina. He flew to her, put his claw round her tiny little
waist and carried her off, up onto a tree.

Poor little Thumbelina! How frightened she was! How grieved she was,
too, for had she not lost her little friend the butterfly?

Would he fly away, she wondered, or would her sash hold him fast?

The cockchafer was charmed with the little maiden. He placed her
tenderly on the largest leaf he could find. He gathered honey for her
from the flowers, and as she sipped it, he