In the warm countries the sun shone so bright that in the ditches and
on the hedges grew big juicy blue and green grapes, lemons and oranges
hung in the woods, and the loveliest children ran about the roads chasing
gorgeous butterflies. The swallow flew on until he came to a great palace
with dazzling white marble pillars.
“My house is at the top of one of those pillars,” said he, “but it is not
good enough for you. It is not yet so well furnished as I should like it
to be if you were to live in it. Pick out one of the splendid flowers you
see down there, and I will set you down in it.”
“That will be a beautiful home,” cried Thumbelina, and clapped her hands.
She chose a great white flower. The swallow flew down with her and set
her on one of the broad leaves. What was Thumbelina’s surprise? There in
the flower sat a little man, shining white, with a tiny gold crown on his
head, and bright wings on his shoulders; and he wasn’t a bit bigger than
Thumbelina herself.
“How handsome he is!” whispered she to the swallow.
“That is the king of all the flowers,” whispered the swallow back to her.
The little king was afraid of the big swallow, but he liked Thumbelina
the minute he saw her. She was the prettiest maiden he had ever laid eyes
on. Instantly he took off his golden crown and put it on her head, asked
her name, and begged her to be his wife and queen of all the flowers.
Now of course such a husband was much better than the toad’s son
who could say nothing from morning till night but “Croak, croak,
brek-kek-brek;” and the field-mouse’s neighbor, the mole, who could do
nothing from morning till night but talk of himself. So Thumbelina said
“Yes,” with a right good will, to the charming Prince.
And out of every flower came a lady or lord, lovely to behold, and each
brought Thumbelina a wedding present. But the best gift was a pair of
beautiful wings that had once belonged to a great white fly. When these
had been fastened on her by one of the lovely ladies, Thumbelina could
fly from flower to flower, and visit everyone in her kingdom.
It was a joyful wedding. The little swallow sat above them in the
nest,—he was to sing the marriage-song. And although his heart was sad to
lose Thumbelina, he sang it sweetly.
So that is the end, and Thumbelina lived happy ever after.
—HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN