Then she laid her head on the bird’S breast，but was very much Star—tied，for it was just as if something inside was going“Thump！Thump！”It was the bird’S heart．The bird was not really dead，it had been in aswoon，and when the marmth stole over it life began tO return．In the au—mn the swallows fly away to warmer lands，but if there be one that is late and gets left behind，it gets SO cold that it falls down as if dead，and the cold snow comes and buries it．
Thumbelina trembled，SO frightened was she，for really the bird was a big creature，compared with herself；but she plucked up her courage，wrapped the cotton—wool more closely round the poor swallow，and brought a leaf，which had served her as a counterpane，and placed it over the bird’S head．
The following night she again crept down to it，and there it was quite alive，but SO weak that it could only open its eye for a second and look at Thumbelina，who stood there with a little piece of touchwood in her hand，for she had no other light．
“Many thanks，you pretty little child！”said the sick swallow．“I am so nice and warm now．I shall soon get back my strength，and be able to fly away into the warlTl sunshine．’’
“Oh，not yet！”said she，“it is cold outside，it is snowing and freez—ing！Keep in your warm bed，and 1 will nurse you！”She brought the swallow water in a leaf，and when it had drunk it told her how it had torn one of its wings on a thorn bush，and therefore could not fly SO strongly as the other swallows，when they flew away to the warm lands．Then it；had fallen to the ground，but it could not remember anything more，and did no know in the least how it had got there．
The swallow stayed the whole winter，and Thumbelina was kind to itand Ioved it very much．Neither the mole nor the field—mouse was told aword about it，for Thumbelina knew they did not like birds．
As soon as the spring came and the sun had warmed the earth，theswallow said good一 to Thumbelina，who opened the hole whichthemole had made in the ground．The sun then shone in gloriously，and theswallow asked if she would not go with him；she could sit on his backand they would fly far out into the green wood．But Thumbelina knewthat it would grieve the old field——mouse if she left her like that．
“No，I cannot come，”said Thumbelina．
“Goodbye，goodbye！You good，pretty little girl！”said the swal—low．and flew out into the warm sunshine．Thumbelina looked after it，andthe tears came tO her eyes，for he dearly loved the swallow．
“Kwee—wit！Kwee—wit！”sang the bird，and flew away into thegreen wood．Thumbelina was very sorrowful．She could not get leave an—yhow tO go into the walqTI sunshine；the corn which had been sown in thefield over the field—mouse’S house had grown high in the air，andseemed like a thick wood tO the poor little girl who was only a thumblong．
“This summer you must sew away at your trousseau，”said the field—mouse，for by this time their neighbor，the tiresome mole，had made uphis mind that he wanted her to be his wife．“You must have both 1inenand woolen in your wardrobe，for when you become the mole’S brideyou must sit down in the best and lie down in the best also．”So Thumbelina had to spin away at her distaff，and the field—mousehired four spiders to weave for her night and day．Every evening the molepaid them a visit，and he always talked about the same thing，and said thatwhen the summer came to an end the sun would not be SO hot；as it was itbaked the earth as hard as a stone．Yes，and when the summer was overthe wedding with Thumbelina was to take place；but she did not like thatat all，for she could not bear the tiresome mole．
Every morning when the sun arose，and every evening when it set，she crept out of doors，and when the wind parted the tops of the com，so that she could see the blue sky，she thought how beautiful it was in the light，and longed to see the dear swallow once more．But it never came back；it must certainly have flown far away into the greenwood．
When autumn came Thumbelina’S outfit was quite ready．
“In four weeks you shall be wedded．”Said the field—mouse．But Thumbelina began to cry，and said that she could not marry the tiresome mole．
“Fiddlesticks！”said the field—mouse，“don’t be obstinate．or I shall bite you with my white teeth．Such a handsome husband as you’re going to have too，what more do you want？The Queen herself has not the like of his black fur coat．He has lots too in both kitchen and cellar．Be thankful for such a husband，say I！”
And SO they were to be married．The mole had already come tO fetch Thumbelina away；she was to live with him deep down in the ground，and never come up into the warn]sunlight at all，for he could not bear it．The poor child was so distressed，but she obtained leave to bid the beautiful sun farewell．for while she had lived with the field—mouse she had al—ways been allowed to look at the sun from the door anyhow．
“Farewell，dear，golden sun！”she said，and stretched her arms high in the air，even going a little way beyond the field—mouse’S door，for the corn had been reaped，and only dry stubble stood there now．“Fare—well，farewell！”cried she，and threw her tiny arms round a little scarlet flower which grew there．“Greet the dear swallow from me if you eversee him！
“Kwee—wit！Kwee—wit！”sounded at that very moment high a—bove her head．She looked up．It was the swallow just passing by．As soon as he saw Thumbelina he was delighted．She told him how she dis—liked the idea of having the nasty mole for a husband，and having to live with him deep down under ground where the sun never shone．She could not keep back her tears as she told him．
“The cold winter is coming now，”said the swallow，“I am going tofly far away to the warlTl lands．Will you come with me？You can sit up—on my back．You have only to tie yourself fast on with your girdle，andthen we will fly right away from the ugly mole and his dark room，fight over the mountains tO the warlTl lands where the sun shines lovelier thanhere，and where there is always summer．Do pray，fly away with me，you sweet little Thumbelina，who saved my life when I lay frozen in the darkearthy cellar！”