The thumb girl

There was once a woman who wanted very much to have a child of her own, even if it were a little big, but she was never pregnant. So she went to ask a famous witch. She said to the witch, "I want very much to have a little child. Can you tell me how I shall have one?" "Hi! That's easy!" The witch said. "Take the barley-corn. It was not common wheat, not the kind that country people grow in their fields, and not the kind that chickens eat. You bury it in a flowerpot. Soon you will see what you want!"

"Thank you." The woman said. She gave the witch three pieces of silver. When she got home, she immediately planted the barley-corn. After a while, a beautiful big red flower grew out of the flowerpot. The green young leaves were tightly wrapped around the flower, just like a tulip in bud.

"What beautiful flowers! "Exclaimed the woman, unconsciously kissing the beautiful yellow and red petals. As she kissed, a miracle happened. The flowers opened with a pop. A real tulip appeared before her eyes. But what was amazing was that in the very center of the flower, on the green pistil, sat a lovely little girl with fair skin. As she was not half as long as her thumb, she was called Thumbelina.

The woman gave Thumbelina a beautiful, shining walnut shell for a cradle, blue violet petals for a cushion, and rose petals for a quilt. Here she slept at night, and by day she played on the table, for there was a special boat the woman had made for her. On the table, the woman placed a plate with flowers round it, the branches of which were in water. There was a large tulip petal floating in the water. Then Tiny could sit on the petals, and paddle from side to side with her two white horsetails. How beautiful it is! She could sing, too, and she sang very well, so softly and sweetly that no one had ever heard her before.

One night a toad with an ugly appearance jumped in at the window, where one of the panes was broken. The toad was ugly and big, and his big mouth slobbered all over him. She hopped on to the table and saw Tiny sleeping under the petals.

"Boy, what a beauty! My son will love it!" 'toad said to himself. Then she took hold of the nut-shell on which Thumbelina lay, and carried it carefully out of the window into the garden.

There was a big river in front of Toad's house. It was actually a stream in the garden. Its banks are low and wet, and the sun never shines. Here lies Toad and her son. Oh dear! Like mother, like son, the little toad was extremely ugly. "Cough up! Cough up! Quack! Quack!" It seemed that the little toad was not yet of age, and had not yet read the Four Books and Five Classics, but this was all he could say when he saw the beautiful little girl in the walnut shell. 'Don't talk so loud, or you will wake her up,' said the old toad. 'She is so bright and light as a swan's feather. Perhaps she will run away from here one day. We must think of a good way to put her under house arrest." "Quack! Quack! Quack!" "Agreed Toad. "It would be better to place her on the broad leaves of a water-lily in the brook, for it would be an island to her. There's no way she can escape up there. And in the meantime we can finish up the room under the mud, and make it our new house, and you two will live there for the rest of your life." 'said the old toad.

The stream floating in different sizes of green boats, with the waves and ripples up and down, such a beautiful scenery. These green boats are the broad water lilies. The old toad swam out to one of the largest and farthest leaves, and placed upon it the nut-shell, with Tiny, who was sleeping in it.

The poor little girl woke up early in the morning. She wept bitterly when she found herself alone on a wide green leaf. There was a rushing stream all around her, and she could think of no good way to get back to land.

As her new wife was going to live under the mud, the old Toad thought it best to make the room pretty. She sat in the mud and decorated the room with rushes and yellow water lilies. Then she swam with her ugly son to the leaf where Thumbelina lay. The old toad bowed low to her in the water and said, "Here is my little son, who will be your husband. You will both be happy in the mud."

"Cough up! Cough up! Quack! Quack! Quack!" That was all the young gentleman could say.

They carried the pretty little bed and swam in the water. Tiny sat alone on the green leaves, and burst into tears, for she did not like to live with a nasty toad, and did not like an ugly young man to be her husband. There were some little fish in the water who had seen and heard Toad. So they all stretched out their heads to look at the little girl. As soon as they saw her, they thought she was so beautiful that they thought it would not do for such a creature to marry an ugly toad! This must not be allowed to happen! In the water they gathered round the stem that held the green leaf, and there the little maiden lived. They bit off the stem with their teeth, and away the leaf drifted down the stream, carrying Tiny with it, far away, where the Toad could not reach at all.

Thumbelina passed through many places. Little birds, who lived in some bushes, saw her, and sang, "What a pretty little girl!"

The leaf carried her drifting, farther and farther away; At last Thumbelina drifted away to a foreign land.

A pretty white butterfly flew round and round her, and at last alighted on the leaf, for he was so fond of Tiny; And Thumbelina was very happy, for now Toad could not find her. And the country through which she now flowed was so beautiful -- the sun shone on the water like the brightest gold. She took off her belt and tied one end of it around the butterfly and the other end tightly around the leaf. The leaf floated away quickly with Tiny, for she was standing on the leaf.

Then came a large chafer. He saw her. At once he put his claws round her tiny waist and flew with her up into the trees. But the green leaf swam on down the stream, and the butterfly followed it, for it was tied to the leaf and could not get away.

God! And how frightened she was when the chafer flew away with her into the woods! But she was more sorry for the beautiful white butterfly. She wondered whether the white butterfly, which was tightly tied to the leaf, would be able to free itself from the girdle; if not, it would surely die of hunger. But the chafer took no notice; he flew with her to the largest green leaf in the tree, and plucked the honey from the flower for her to eat. She did not like the chafer at all, but the Chafer said how beautiful she was.

Then all the chafers who lived in the woods came to visit them. They eyed the intruder up and down. The lady chafers shook their antennae, frowned and said:

"Why, she's so ugly, with only two legs!"

"Antennae, she doesn't even have that basic component, she looks so strange!" They said.

"Bah! How ugly it is to have such a small waist! She's just like a person!" "Said all the female beetles together.

But thumbelina's beauty was undeniable. Even the cockchafer who held her captive could not help thinking so. But it's decided and it's ruined! When everyone said she was very ugly, he finally believed it, and he didn't want her either! She can go anywhere now. She was taken down from the tree by a chafer and placed on a Daisy. There she wept bitterly, for the chafer did not want her because she was ugly. But she was still one of the most beautiful creatures in legend, so delicate, so pure, like the brightest rose-leaf.

All summer long tiny, alone, lived miserably in the great wood. But she had made herself a little bed of leaves of grass, and hung it under a great burdock leaf, so that the rain would not come down on her. She ate honey from the flowers, and she drank the dew that fell on the leaves every morning. Summer and fall passed. Now comes the long, cold winter. The birds that had sung for her now flew away to the warm lands. Trees and flowers are beginning to wither. And the great burdock leaf, under which she had lived, was rolled up, and there remained but a yellow and withered stalk. Poor Little Thumbelina, her clothes were torn, and she was so thin and slender, that the chilly wind made her feel very cold. If she doesn't figure something out, she'll freeze to death. It began to snow, and each flake fell on her like a shovelful of snow, for after all she was only an inch long. She had to wrap herself in a dry leaf, but the seal was not good, and it was not warm.

In order to survive, she had to look for food. Near the wood where she had come, there was a field of cut wheat, leaving only bare stubble on the frozen ground. To walk among them was, for her, to walk through a vast forest. Ah! She shivered with cold, how she shivered! At last she found a little hole under a stubble. It was the home of a field mouse. It was warm and comfortable in the cave, and the Aunt mouse had a beautiful kitchen and a dining room, and she had a whole room full of wheat in her possession. Poor Little Thumbelina stood outside the door like a poor child begging for food. She longed for a barley-corn from the field-mouse, for she had not eaten a thing for two days.

'You poor little thing, you are starving! 'said the field-mouse sadly, for she was a good-hearted old field-mouse,' come into my warm house and have supper with me. '

As she liked Little Thumbelina now, she said, "You may stay with me through the winter; but you must make my room clean and tidy, and tell me stories, for I love stories."

In return, Tiny did everything the kind old Mouse asked. She was very happy there.

"We shall soon have company," said the field-mouse. "This neighbour of mine comes to see me once a week. He is very rich: he has large rooms and lives much more comfortably than I do, and he wears very beautiful black velvet robes. If only you could have him, and make him your husband, you would have food and clothing for life. But he was blind and could not see with his eyes. You must describe to him some of the most beautiful stories you know."

Tiny had no interest in such a husband, for he was a Mole, and in her heart she did not want to marry her neighbor. The next day the Mole called in a black velvet robe. The field-mouse boasted of how rich and learned he was, and how big his house was. But he did not like the sun or beautiful flowers, because he lived underground and never saw them, and he got into the habit of saying bad things about them. Tiny had to sing a song for him. She sang "Fly away, Cockchafer!" "And" The Priest Walks on the Prairie." The Mole could not help falling in love with her because she had such a beautiful voice. But he did not show it, for he was a famous gentleman.

In order to reach Tiny, he had recently dug a long tunnel from his own house, which led directly to their house. He often invited the field-mouse and Tiny to walk in the passage whenever they liked. But he advised them not to be afraid of a dead bird lying in the tunnel. He was a whole bird, with wings and a beak, but covered with dust. No doubt he died some time ago, at the beginning of winter.

The tunnel the mole had made went right through the place where the bird was now buried. The Mole had a kindling in his mouth, which gave a light in the dark. He walked ahead, lighting them in the long, dark tunnel. When they came to where the dead bird was lying, the Mole put his great nose up to the ceiling and dug a big hole in the earth. Sunlight comes in through this hole. In the middle of the ground lay a dead swallow, his beautiful wings close to his body, and his legs and head tucked up in his feathers: the poor bird was doubtless frozen to death. This made Tiny very sad, for she was very fond of all birds. Indeed, all through the summer the birds had sung sweetly to her and talked with her in whispers. But the Mole gave a push with his short leg, and said, 'He can't sing any more! To be born a bird -- what a poor thing it must be! A bird like this, which can do nothing but chirp, must die of hunger and cold in winter! Thankfully, that will not be the case with my children."

"Yes, you are a wise man and quite right," said the field-mouse. "What are these chirps of songs to a swallow when winter comes? His only alternative was starvation and cold. But I suppose that's the great thing they talk about!"

Tiny said nothing. She had other plans in her heart. She felt very sorry for the swallow. As soon as they both turned their backs on the swallow, she bent down and gently brushed aside the tuft of feathers that covered his head and kissed his closed eyes.

"It may be he who sang so sweetly to me in the summer." She wants to. "How much joy this lovely, beautiful bird has given me!"

The Mole now closed the sunlit hole again, and accompanied the two friends home. But that night Thumbelina could not sleep, for she still thought of the frozen swallow. She got out of bed and wove grass into a big, beautiful blanket. She took it to the dead swallow and covered him up. And she searched for some soft cotton which she could find in the field-mouse's room, and wrapped it round the swallow, to keep him warm in the cold earth.

"Farewell, you pretty bird! She said, "Farewell! In summer, when the trees are green and the warm sun shines on us, you sing so beautifully -- I thank you for it!" So she bent down and laid her head on the bird's breast. But she began to panic, for something was beating inside him, and it was the faint heaving of a bird's heart. The bird was not dead; it was just lying there unconscious with cold. Now he was warm, and slowly he came back to life.

In autumn, all the swallows