But the mole and
the field-mouse did not know how Thumbelina tended and cared for the
swallow.
At last spring came, and the sun sent its warmth down where the
swallow lay in the underground passage.
Little Thumbelina opened the hole which the mole had made in the
ceiling, and the sunshine streamed down on the swallow and the little
girl.
How the swallow longed to soar away, up and up, to be lost to sight in
the blue, blue sky!
"Come with me, little Thumbelina," said the swallow, "come with me to
the blue skies and the green woods."
But Thumbelina remembered how kind the field-mouse had been to her
when she was cold and hungry, and she would not leave her.
"Farewell! farewell! then, little maiden," twittered the swallow as he
flew out and up, up into the sunshine.
Thumbelina loved the swallow dearly. Her eyes were full of tears as
she watched the bird disappearing till he was only a tiny speck of
black.
And now sad days came to little Thumbelina.
The golden corn was once more waving in the sunshine above the house
of the field-mouse, but Thumbelina must not go out lest she lose
herself among the corn.
Not go out in the bright sunshine! Oh, poor little Thumbelina!
"You must get your wedding clothes ready this summer," said the
field-mouse.
Pages:
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318