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 one; you saved my life when I lay frozen in that dark,
dreary passage." "Yes, I will go with you," said Thumbelina; 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. The swallow rose in the air and flew over forest and over sea--high
above the highest mountains, covered with eternal snow. Thumbelina 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 fields, 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 Thumbelina. "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 Thumbelina 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 was she
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 Thumbelina 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 Thumbelina 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 from the son of the
toad, or the mole with his 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 Thumbelina 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 Thumbelina'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
Thumbelina and would have liked never to part from her again. "You must not be called Thumbelina any more," said the spirit of the
flowers to her. "It is an ugly name, and you are so very lovely. 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. [Illustration]




SUNSHINE STORIES


"I AM going to tell a story," said the Wind. "I beg your pardon," said the Rain, "but now it is my turn. Have you not
been howling round the corner this long time, as hard as ever you
could?" "Is this the gratitude you owe me?" said the Wind; "I, who in honor of
you turn inside out--yes, even break--all the umbrellas, when the people
won't have anything to do with you." "I will speak myself," said the Sunshine. "Silence!" and the Sunshine
said it with such glory and majesty that the weary Wind fell prostrate,
and the Rain, beating against him, shook him, as she said:

"We won't stand it! She is always breaking through--is Madame Sunshine. Let us not listen to her; what she has to say is not worth hearing." And still the Sunshine began to talk, and this is what she said:

"A beautiful swan flew over the rolling, tossing waves of the ocean. Every one of its feathers shone like gold; and one feather drifted down
to the great merchant vessel that, with sails all set, was sailing away. "The feather fell upon the light curly hair of a young man, whose
business it was to care for the goods in the ship--the supercargo he was
called. The feather of the bird of fortune touched his forehead, became
a pen in his hand, and brought him such luck that he soon became a
wealthy merchant, rich enough to have bought for himself spurs of
gold--rich enough to change a golden plate into a nobleman's shield, on
which," said the Sunshine, "I shone." *       *       *       *       *

"The swan flew farther, away and away, over the sunny green meadow,
where the little shepherd boy, only seven years old, had lain down in
the shade of the old tree, the only one there was in sight. "In its flight the swan kissed one of the leaves of the tree, and
falling into the boy's hand, it was changed to three leaves--to ten--to
a whole book; yes, and in the book he read about all the wonders of
nature, about his native language, about faith and knowledge. At night
he laid the book under his pillow, that he might not forget what he had
been reading. "The wonderful book led him also to the schoolroom, and thence
everywhere, in search of knowledge. I have read his name among the names
of learned men," said the Sunshine. *       *       *       *       *

"The swan flew into the quiet, lonely forest, and rested awhile on the
deep, dark lake where the lilies grow, where the wild apples are to be
found on the shore, where the cuckoo and the wild pigeon have their
homes. "In the wood was a poor woman gathering firewood--branches and dry
sticks that had fallen. She bore them on her back in a bundle, and in
her arms she held her little child.