ch to fly far away into the green wood, but
she knew that the old field-mouse would be sad if she ran away. 'No, I
mustn't come!' she said.

'Farewell, dear good little girl!' said the swallow, and flew off into
the sunshine. Thumbelina gazed after him with the tears standing in her
eyes, for she was very fond of the swallow.

'Tweet, tweet!' sang the bird, and flew into the green wood. Thumbelina
was very unhappy. She was not allowed to go out into the warm sunshine.
The corn which had been sowed in the field over the field-mouse's home
grew up high into the air, and made a thick forest for the poor little
girl, who was only an inch high.

'Now you are to be a bride, Thumbelina!' said the field-mouse, 'for our
neighbour has proposed for you! What a piece of fortune for a poor child
like you! Now you must set to work at your linen for your dowry, for
nothing must be lacking if you are to become the wife of our neighbour,
the mole!'

Thumbelina had to spin all day long, and every evening the mole visited
her, and told her that when the summer was over the sun would not shine
so hot; now it was burning the earth as hard as a stone. Yes, when the
summer had passed, they would keep the wedding.

But she was not at all pleased about it, for she did not like the stupid
mole. Every morning when the sun was rising, and every evening when it
was setting, she would steal out of the house-door, and when the breeze
parted the ears of corn so that she could see the blue sky through them,
she thought how bright and beautiful it must be outside, and longed to
see her dear swallow again. But he never came; no doubt he had flown
away far into the great green wood.

By the autumn Thumbelina had finished the dowry.

'In four weeks you will be married!' said the field-mouse; 'don't be
obstinate, or I shall bite you with my sharp white teeth! You will get
a fine husband! The King himself has not such a velvet coat. His
store-room and cellar are full, and you should be thankful for that.'

Well, the wedding-day arrived. The mole had come to fetch Thumbelina
to live with him deep down under the ground, never to come out into the
warm sun again, for that was what he didn't like. The poor little girl
was very sad; for now she must say good-bye to the beautiful sun.

'Farewell, bright sun!' she cried, stretching out her arms towards it,
and taking another step outside the house; for now the corn had
been reaped, and only the dry stubbl