lk such nonsense," said
the field-mouse. "Among all my friends not one of them has such a fine
velvet coat as the mole. His cellars are full and his rooms are large.
You ought to be glad to marry so well," she ended.

"Was there no escape from the underground home?" little Thumbelina
wondered.

The wedding-day came. The mole arrived to fetch his little bride.

How could she say good-by forever to the beautiful sunshine?

"Farewell, farewell!" she cried, and waved her little hands toward the
glorious sun.

"Farewell, farewell!" she cried, and threw her tiny arms round a little
red flower growing at her feet.

"Tell the dear swallow, when he comes again," she whispered to the
flower, "tell him I will never forget him."

"Tweet, tweet!" What was that Thumbelina heard? "Tweet, tweet!" Could it
be the swallow?

The flutter of wings was round her. Little Thumbelina looked. How glad
she was, for there, indeed, was the little bird she had tended and cared
for so long. She told him, weeping, she must not stay. She must marry
the mole and live underground, and never see the sun, the glorious sun.

"Come with me, come with me, little Thumbelina," twittered the swallow.
"You can sit on my back, and I will fly with you to warmer countries,
far from the tiresome old mole. Over mountains and seas we will fly to
the country where the summer never ends, and the sunlight always
shines."

Then little Thumbelina seated herself on her dear swallow's back, and
put her tiny feet on his outstretched wing. She tied herself firmly with
her little sash to the strongest feather of the bird.

And the swallow soared high into the air. High above forests and lakes,
high above the big mountains that were crested with snow, he soared.

They had reached the warm countries now.

On and on flew the swallow, till he came to a white marble palace.
Half-ruined it was, and vine leaves trailed up the long slender pillars.
And among the broad, green leaves many a swallow had built his nest, and
one of these nests belonged to Thumbelina's little swallow.

"This is my home," said the bird, "but you shall live in one of these
brilliant flowers, in the loveliest of them all."

And little Thumbelina clapped her hands with joy.

The swallow flew with her to a stately sun-flower, and set her carefully
on one of the broad yellow petals.

But think, what was her surprise! In the very heart of the flower stood
a little Prince, fair and transparent as