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 sunflower, 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 crystal. On his head he
wore a crown of gold, on his shoulders a pair of delicate wings, and
he was small, every bit as small as Thumbelina. He was the spirit of
the flower.

For you know in each flower there is a spirit, a tiny little boy or
girl, but this little Prince was King of all the flower spirits.

The little King thought Thumbelina the loveliest maiden he had ever
seen. He took off his golden crown and placed it on the tiny head
of the little maid, and in a silvery voice he asked, "Will you be my
bride, little Thumbelina, and reign with me over the flower spirits?"

How glad Thumbelina was!

The little King wished to marry her. Yes, she would be his little
Queen.

Then out of each blossom stepped tiny little children. They came to
pay their homage to little Thumbelina.

Each one brought her a present, and the most beautiful of all the
presents was a pair of wings, delicate as gossamer. And when they
were fastened on the shoulders of the little Queen, she could fly from
flower to flower.

And the swallow sat on his nest above, and sang his sweetest bridal
song for the wedding of little Thumbelina.

* * * * *

THE TINDER-BOX

BY HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

A story about a tinder-box? Yes, but then it was such a wonderful one!
Why, it must certainly have been a magic box!

It belonged to an old witch, this tinder-box, but it had been left
right down inside a tree by the ugly old witch's grandmother. But get
it again she must, for she knew it really was a magic tinder-box.

But how could she get it?

Ah! here was her chance.

Tramp, tramp; right, left, right, left. She heard the steps come
nearer and nearer. She looked! There was a soldier coming along;
tramp, tramp.

She could see him now, with a knapsack on his back, and his sword at
his side.

The soldier had been to the wars and was coming home.

"Good evening," said the witch, as he came