"Free, free!" she sang, and her voice tinkled as a chime of fairy
bells. "Free, free!" she sang merrily as she floated down the stream,
away, far away out of reach of the ugly old toad and her ugly son.
And as she floated on, the little wild birds sang round her, and on
the banks the little wild harebells bowed to her.
Butterflies were flitting here and there in the sunshine. A pretty
little white one fluttered on to the leaf on which sat Thumbelina. He
loved the tiny maiden so well that he settled down beside her.
Now she was quite happy! Birds around her, flowers near her, and the
water gleaming like gold in the summer sunshine. What besides could
little Thumbelina wish?
She took off her sash and threw one end of it round the butterfly. The
other end she fastened firmly to the leaf. On and on floated the leaf,
the little maiden and the butterfly.
Suddenly a great cockchafer buzzed along. Alas! he caught sight of
little Thumbelina. He flew to her, put his claw round her tiny waist
and carried her off, up on to a tree.
Poor little Thumbelina! How frightened she was! How grieved she was,
too, for had she not lost her little friend the butterfly?
Would he fly away, she wondered, or would her sash hold him fast?
The cockchafer was charmed with the little maiden.
Pages:
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311