Hans Christian
Andersen
Thumbelina
There was once a woman who wished very much to have a little child,
but she could not obtain her wish. At last she went to a fairy,
and said, "I should so very much like to have a little child;
can you tell me where I can find one?"
"Oh, that can be easily managed," said the fairy. "Here
is a barleycorn of a different kind to those which grow in the farmer's
fields, and which the chickens eat; put it into a flower-pot, and
see what will happen."
"Thank you," said the woman, and she gave the fairy twelve
shillings, which was the price of the barleycorn. Then she went
home and planted it, and immediately there grew up a large handsome
flower, something like a tulip in appearance, but with its leaves
tightly closed as if it were still a bud.
"It is a beautiful flower," said the woman, and she kissed
the red and golden-colored leaves, and while she did so the flower
opened, and she could see that it was a real tulip. Within the flower,
upon the green velvet stamens, sat a very delicate and graceful
little maiden. She was scarcely half as long as a thumb, and they
gave her the name of "Thumbelina," or Tiny, because she
was so small. A walnut-shell, elegantly polished, served her for
a cradle; her bed was formed of blue violet-leaves, with a rose-leaf
for a counterpane. Here she slept at night, but during the day she
amused herself on a table, where the woman had placed a plateful
of water. Round this plate were wreaths of flowers with their stems
in the water, and upon it floated a large tulip-leaf, which served
Tiny for a boat. Here the little maiden sat and rowed herself from
side to side, with two oars made of white horse-hair. It really
was a very pretty sight. Tiny could, also, sing so softly and sweetly
that nothing like her singing had ever before been heard.
One night, while she lay in her pretty bed, a large, ugly, wet toad
crept through a broken pane of glass in the window, and leaped right
upon the table where Tiny lay sleeping under her rose-leaf quilt.
"What a pretty little wife this would make for my son,"
said the toad, and she took up the walnut-shell in which little
Tiny lay asleep, and jumped through the window with it into the
garden.
< 2 >
In the swampy margin of a broad stream in the garden lived the
toad, with her son. He was uglier even than his mother, and when
he saw the pretty little maiden in her elegant bed, he could only
cry, "Croak, croak, croak."
"Don't speak so loud, or she will wake," said the toad,
"and then she might run away, for she is as light as swan's
down. We will place her on one of the water-lily leaves out in the
stream; it will be like an island to her, she is so light and small,
and then she cannot escape; and, while she is away, we will make
haste and prepare the state-room under the marsh, in which you are
to live when you are married."
Far out in the stream grew a number of water-lilies, with broad
green leaves, which seemed to float on the top of the water. The
largest of these leaves appeared farther off than the rest, and
the old toad swam out to it with the walnut-shell, in which little
Tiny lay still asleep.
The tiny little creature woke very early in the morning, and began
to cry bitterly when she found where she was, for she could see
nothing but water on every side of the large green leaf, and no
way of reaching the land.
Meanwhile the old toad was very busy under the marsh, decking her
room with rushes and wild yellow flowers, to make it look pretty
for her new daughter-in-law. Then she swam out with her ugly son
to the leaf on which she had placed poor little Tiny. She wanted
to fetch the pretty bed, that she might put it in the bridal chamber
to be ready for her. The old toad bowed low to her in the water,
and said, "Here is my son, he will be your husband, and you
will live happily in the marsh by the stream."
"Croak, croak, croak," was all her son could say for himself;
so the toad took up the elegant little bed, and swam away with it,
leaving Tiny all alone on the green leaf, where she sat and wept.
She could not bear to think of living with the old toad, and having
her ugly son for a husband.
The little fishes, who swam about in the water beneath, had seen
the toad, and heard what she said, so they lifted their heads above
the water to look at the little maiden. As soon as they caught sight
of her, they saw she was very pretty, and it made them very sorry
to think that she must go and live with the ugly toads. "No,
it must never be!" So they assembled together in the water,
round the green stalk which held the leaf on which the little maiden
stood, and gnawed it away at the root with their teeth. Then the
leaf floated down the stream, carrying Tiny far away out of reach
of land.
< 3 >
Tiny sailed past many towns, and the little birds in the bushes
saw her, and sang, "What a lovely little creature;" so
the leaf swam away with her farther and farther, till it brought
her to other lands.
A graceful little white butterfly constantly fluttered round her,
and at last alighted on the leaf. Tiny pleased him, and she was
glad of it, for now the toad could not possibly reach her, and the
country through which she sailed was beautiful, and the sun shone
upon the water, till it glittered like liquid gold. She took off
her girdle and tied one end of it round the butterfly, and the other
end of the ribbon she fastened to the leaf, which now glided on
much faster than ever, taking little Tiny with it as she stood.
Presently a large cockchafer flew by; the moment he caught sight
of her, he seized her round her delicate waist with his claws, and
flew with her into a tree. The green leaf floated away on the brook,
and the butterfly flew with it, for he was fastened to it, and could
not get away.
Oh, how frightened little Tiny felt when the cockchafer flew with
her to the tree! But especially was she sorry for the beautiful
white butterfly which she had fastened to the leaf, for if he could
not free himself he would die of hunger. But the cockchafer did
not trouble himself at all about the matter. He seated himself by
her side on a large green leaf, gave her some honey from the flowers
to eat, and told her she was very pretty, though not in the least
like a cockchafer.
After a time, all the cockchafers turned up their feelers, and said,
"She has only two legs! how ugly that looks."
"She has no feelers," said another. "Her waist is
quite slim. Pooh! she is like a human being."
"Oh! she is ugly," said all the lady cockchafers, although
Tiny was very pretty. Then the cockchafer who had run away with
her, believed all the others when they said she was ugly, and would
have nothing more to say to her, and told her she might go where
she liked. Then he flew down with her from the tree, and placed
her on a daisy, and she wept at the thought that she was so ugly
that even the cockchafers would have nothing to say to her. And
all the while she was really the loveliest creature that one could
imagine, and as tender and delicate as a beautiful rose-leaf.
< 4 >
During the whole summer poor little Tiny lived quite alone in
the wide forest. She wove herself a bed with blades of grass, and
hung it up under a broad leaf, to protect herself from the rain.
She sucked the honey from the flowers for food, and drank the dew
from their leaves every morning. So passed away the summer and the
autumn, and then came the winter - the long, cold winter. All the
birds who had sung to her so sweetly were flown away, and the trees
and the flowers had withered. The large clover leaf under the shelter
of which she had lived, was now rolled together and shrivelled up,
nothing remained but a yellow withered stalk. She felt dreadfully
cold, for her clothes were torn, and she was herself so frail and
delicate, that poor little Tiny was nearly frozen to death.
It began to snow too; and the snow-flakes, as they fell upon her,
were like a whole shovelful falling upon one of us, for we are tall,
but she was only an inch high. Then she wrapped herself up in a
dry leaf, but it cracked in the middle and could not keep her warm,
and she shivered with cold.
Near the wood in which she had been living lay a corn-field, but
the corn had been cut a long time; nothing remained but the bare
dry stubble standing up out of the frozen ground. It was to her
like struggling through a large wood. Oh! how she shivered with
the cold.
She came at last to the door of a field-mouse, who had a little
den under the corn-stubble. There dwelt the field-mouse in warmth
and comfort, with a whole roomful of corn, a kitchen, and a beautiful
dining room. Poor little Tiny stood before the door just like a
little beggar-girl, and begged for a small piece of barley-corn,
for she had been without a morsel to eat for two days.
"You poor little creature," said the field-mouse, who
was really a good old field-mouse, "come into my warm room
and dine with me." She was very pleased with Tiny, so she said,
"You are quite welcome to stay with me all the winter, if you
like; but you must keep my rooms clean and neat, and tell me stories,
for I shall like to hear them very much."
< 5 >
And Tiny did all the field-mouse asked her, and found herself
very comfortable.
"We shall have a visitor soon," said the field-mouse one
day; "my neighbor pays me a visit once a week. He is better
off than I am; he has large rooms, and wears a beautiful black velvet
coat. If you could only have him for a husband, you would be well
provided for indeed. But he is blind, so you must tell him some
of your prettiest stories."
But Tiny did not feel at all interested about this neighbor, for
he was a mole. However, he came and paid his visit dressed in his
black velvet coat.
"He is very rich and learned, and his house is twenty times
larger than mine," said the field-mouse.
He was rich and learned, no doubt, but he always spoke slightingly
of the sun and the pretty flowers, because he had never seen them.
Tiny was obliged to sing to him, "Lady-bird, lady-bird, fly
away home," and many other pretty songs. And the mole fell
in love with her because she had such a sweet voice; but he said
nothing yet, for he was very cautious.
A short time before, the mole had dug a long passage under the earth,
which led from the dwelling of the field-mouse to his own, and here
she had permission to walk with Tiny whenever she liked. But he
warned them not to be alarmed at the sight of a dead bird which
lay in the passage. It was a perfect bird, with a beak and feathers,
and could not have been dead long, and was lying just where the
mole had made his passage. The mole took a piece of phosphorescent
wood in his mouth, and it glittered like fire in the dark; then
he went before them to light them through the long, dark passage.
When they came to the spot where lay the dead bird, the mole pushed
his broad nose through the ceiling, the earth gave way, so that
there was a large hole, and the daylight shone into the passage.
In the middle of the floor lay a dead swallow, his beautiful wings
pulled close to his sides, his feet and his head drawn up under
his feathers; the poor bird had evidently died of the cold. It made
little Tiny very sad to see it, she did so love the little birds;
all the summer they had sung and twittered for her so beautifully.
But the mole pushed it aside with his crooked legs, and said, "He
will sing no more now. How miserable it must be to be born a little
bird! I am thankful that none of my children will ever be birds,
for they can do nothing but cry, 'Tweet, tweet,' and always die
of hunger in the winter."
< 6 >
"Yes, you may well say that, as a clever man!" exclaimed
the field-mouse, "What is the use of his twittering, for when
winter comes he must either starve or be frozen to death. Still
birds are very high bred."
Tiny said nothing; but when the two others had turned their backs
on the bird, she stooped down and stroked aside the soft feathers
which covered the head, and kissed the closed eyelids. "Perhaps
this was the one who sang to me so sweetly in the summer,"
she said; "and how much pleasure it gave me, you dear, pretty
bird."
The mole now stopped up the hole through which the daylight shone,
and then accompanied the lady home. But during the night Tiny could
not sleep; so she got out of bed and wove a large, beautiful carpet
of hay; then she carried it to the dead bird, and spread it over
him; with some down from the flowers which she had found in the
field-mouse's room. It was as soft as wool, and she spread some
of it on each side of the bird, so that he might lie warmly in the
cold earth.
"Farewell, you pretty little bird," said she, "farewell;
thank you for your delightful singing during the summer, when all
the trees were green, and the warm sun shone upon us." Then
she laid her head on the bird's breast, but she was alarmed immediately,
for it seemed as if something inside the bird went "thump,
thump." It was the bird's heart; he was not really dead, only
benumbed with the cold, and the warmth had restored him to life.
In autumn, all the swallows fly away into warm countries, but if
one happens to linger, the cold seizes it, it becomes frozen, and
falls down as if dead; it remains where it fell, and the cold snow
covers it. Tiny trembled very much; she was quite frightened, for
the bird was large, a great deal larger than herself, - she was
only an inch high. But she took courage, laid the wool more thickly
over the poor swallow, and then took a leaf which she had used for
her own counterpane, and laid it over the head of the poor bird.
The next morning she again stole out to see him. He was alive but
very weak; he could only open his eyes for a moment to look at Tiny,
who stood by holding a piece of decayed wood in her hand, for she
had no other lantern.
< 7 >
"Thank you, pretty little maiden," said the sick swallow;
"I have been so nicely warmed, that I shall soon regain my
strength, and be able to fly about again in the warm sunshine."
"Oh," said she, "it is cold out of doors now; it
snows and freezes. Stay in your warm bed; I will take care of you."
Then she brought the swallow some water in a flower-leaf, and after
he had drank, he told her that he had wounded one of his wings in
a thorn-bush, and could not fly as fast as the others, who were
soon far away on their journey to warm countries. Then at last he
had fallen to the earth, and could remember no more, nor how he
came to be where she had found him.
The whole winter the swallow remained underground, and Tiny nursed
him with care and love. Neither the mole nor the field-mouse knew
anything about it, for they did not like swallows. Very soon the
spring time came, and the sun warmed the earth. Then the swallow
bade farewell to Tiny, and she opened the hole in the ceiling which
the mole had made. The sun shone in upon them so beautifully, that
the swallow asked her if she would go with him; she could sit on
his back, he said, and he would fly away with her into the green
woods. But Tiny knew it would make the field-mouse very grieved
if she left her in that manner, so she said, "No, I cannot."
"Farewell, then, farewell, you good, pretty little maiden,"
said the swallow; and he flew out into the sunshine.
Tiny looked after him, and the tears rose in her eyes. She was very
fond of the poor swallow.
"Tweet, tweet," sang the bird, as he flew out into the
green woods, and Tiny felt very sad. She was not allowed to go out
into the warm sunshine. The corn which had been sown in the field
over the house of the field-mouse had grown up high into the air,
and formed a thick wood to Tiny, who was only an inch in height.
"You are going to be married, Tiny," said the field-mouse.
"My neighbor has asked for you. What good fortune for a poor
child like you. Now we will prepare your wedding clothes. They must
be both woollen and linen. Nothing must be wanting when you are
the mole's wife."
< 8 >
Tiny had to turn the spindle, and the field-mouse hired four spiders,
who were to weave day and night. Every evening the mole visited
her, and was continually speaking of the time when the summer would
be over. Then he would keep his wedding-day with Tiny; but now the
heat of the sun was so great that it burned the earth, and made
it quite hard, like a stone. As soon as the summer was over, the
wedding should take place. But Tiny was not at all pleased; for
she did not like the tiresome mole. Every morning when the sun rose,
and every evening when it went down, she would creep out at the
door, and as the wind blew aside the ears of corn, so that she could
see the blue sky, she thought how beautiful and bright it seemed
out there, and wished so much to see her dear swallow again. But
he never returned; for by this time he had flown far away into the
lovely green forest.
When autumn arrived, Tiny had her outfit quite ready; and the field-mouse
said to her, "In four weeks the wedding must take place."
Then Tiny wept, and said she would not marry the disagreeable mole.
"Nonsense," replied the field-mouse. "Now don't be
obstinate, or I shall bite you with my white teeth. He is a very
handsome mole; the queen herself does not wear more beautiful velvets
and furs. His kitchen and cellars are quite full. You ought to be
very thankful for such good fortune."
So the wedding-day was fixed, on which the mole was to fetch Tiny
away to live with him, deep under the earth, and never again to
see the warm sun, because he did not like it. The poor child was
very unhappy at the thought of saying farewell to the beautiful
sun, and as the field-mouse had given her permission to stand at
the door, she went to look at it once more.
"Farewell bright sun," she cried, stretching out her arm
towards it; and then she walked a short distance from the house;
for the corn had been cut, and only the dry stubble remained in
the fields. "Farewell, farewell," she repeated, twining
her arm round a little red flower that grew just by her side. "Greet
the little swallow from me, if you should see him again."
< 9 >
"Tweet, tweet," sounded over her head suddenly. She
looked up, and there was the swallow himself flying close by. As
soon as he spied Tiny, he was delighted; and then she told him how
unwilling she felt to marry the ugly mole, and to live always beneath
the earth, and never to see the bright sun any more. And as she
told him she wept.
"Cold winter is coming," said the swallow, "and I
am going to fly away into warmer countries. Will you go with me?
You can sit on my back, and fasten yourself on with your sash. Then
we can fly away from the ugly mole and his gloomy rooms, - far away,
over the mountains, into warmer countries, where the sun shines
more brightly than here; where it is always summer, and the flowers
bloom in greater beauty. Fly now with me, dear little Tiny; you
saved my life when I lay frozen in that dark passage."
"Yes, I will go with you," said Tiny; and she seated herself
on the bird's back, with her feet on his outstretched wings, and
tied her girdle to one of his strongest feathers.
Then the swallow rose in the air, and flew over forest and over
sea, high above the highest mountains, covered with eternal snow.
Tiny would have been frozen in the cold air, but she crept under
the bird's warm feathers, keeping her little head uncovered, so
that she might admire the beautiful lands over which they passed.
At length they reached the warm countries, where the sun shines
brightly, and the sky seems so much higher above the earth. Here,
on the hedges, and by the wayside, grew purple, green, and white
grapes; lemons and oranges hung from trees in the woods; and the
air was fragrant with myrtles and orange blossoms. Beautiful children
ran along the country lanes, playing with large gay butterflies;
and as the swallow flew farther and farther, every place appeared
still more lovely.
At last they came to a blue lake, and by the side of it, shaded
by trees of the deepest green, stood a palace of dazzling white
marble, built in the olden times. Vines clustered round its lofty
pillars, and at the top were many swallows' nests, and one of these
was the home of the swallow who carried Tiny.
< 10 >
"This is my house," said the swallow; "but it would
not do for you to live there - you would not be comfortable. You
must choose for yourself one of those lovely flowers, and I will
put you down upon it, and then you shall have everything that you
can wish to make you happy."
"That will be delightful," she said, and clapped her little
hands for joy.
A large marble pillar lay on the ground, which, in falling, had
been broken into three pieces. Between these pieces grew the most
beautiful large white flowers; so the swallow flew down with Tiny,
and placed her on one of the broad leaves. But how surprised she
was to see in the middle of the flower, a tiny little man, as white
and transparent as if he had been made of crystal! He had a gold
crown on his head, and delicate wings at his shoulders, and was
not much larger than Tiny herself. He was the angel of the flower;
for a tiny man and a tiny woman dwell in every flower; and this
was the king of them all.
"Oh, how beautiful he is!" whispered Tiny to the swallow.
The little prince was at first quite frightened at the bird, who
was like a giant, compared to such a delicate little creature as
himself; but when he saw Tiny, he was delighted, and thought her
the prettiest little maiden he had ever seen. He took the gold crown
from his head, and placed it on hers, and asked her name, and if
she would be his wife, and queen over all the flowers.
This certainly was a very different sort of husband to the son of
a toad, or the mole, with my black velvet and fur; so she said,
"Yes," to the handsome prince. Then all the flowers opened,
and out of each came a little lady or a tiny lord, all so pretty
it was quite a pleasure to look at them. Each of them brought Tiny
a present; but the best gift was a pair of beautiful wings, which
had belonged to a large white fly and they fastened them to Tiny's
shoulders, so that she might fly from flower to flower. Then there
was much rejoicing, and the little swallow who sat above them, in
his nest, was asked to sing a wedding song, which he did as well
as he could; but in his heart he felt sad for he was very fond of
Tiny, and would have liked never to part from her again.
< 11 >
"You must not be called Tiny any more," said the spirit
of the flowers to her. "It is an ugly name, and you are so
very pretty. We will call you Maia."
"Farewell, farewell," said the swallow, with a heavy heart
as he left the warm countries to fly back into Denmark. There he
had a nest over the window of a house in which dwelt the writer
of fairy tales. The swallow sang, "Tweet, tweet," and
from his song came the whole story.
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