О чем сказка дюймовочка на английском

This article is about the 1835 literary fairy tale by Hans Christian Andersen. For other uses, see Thumbelina (disambiguation).

«Thumbelina»
by Hans Christian Andersen
Calineczka VP ubt.jpeg

Illustration by Vilhelm Pedersen,
Andersen’s first illustrator

Original title Tommelise
Translator Mary Howitt
Country Denmark
Language Danish
Genre(s) Literary fairy tale
Published in Fairy Tales Told for Children. First Collection. Second Booklet. 1835. (Eventyr, fortalte for Børn. Første Samling. Andet Hefte. 1835.)
Publication type Fairy tale collection
Publisher C. A. Reitzel
Media type Print
Publication date 16 December 1835
Published in English 1846
Chronology
← Preceded by
Little Ida’s Flowers
Followed by →
The Naughty Boy
Full text
Thumbelina at Wikisource

Thumbelina (; Danish: Tommelise) is a literary novel bedtime story fairy tale written by the famous Danish author Hans Christian Andersen first published by C. A. Reitzel on 16 December 1835 in Copenhagen, Denmark, with «The Naughty Boy» and «The Travelling Companion» in the second instalment of Fairy Tales Told for Children. Thumbelina is about a tiny girl and her adventures with marriage-minded toads, moles, and cockchafers. She successfully avoids their intentions before falling in love with a flower-fairy prince just her size.

Thumbelina is chiefly Andersen’s invention, though he did take inspiration from tales of miniature people such as «Tom Thumb». Thumbelina was published as one of a series of seven fairy tales in 1835 which were not well received by the Danish critics who disliked their informal style and their lack of morals. One critic, however, applauded Thumbelina.[1] The earliest English translation of Thumbelina is dated 1846. The tale has been adapted to various media including television drama and animated film.

Plot[edit]

A woman yearning for a child asks a witch for advice, and is presented with a barley which she is told to go home and plant (in the first English translation of 1847 by Mary Howitt, the tale opens with a beggar woman giving a peasant’s wife a barleycorn in exchange for food). After the barleycorn is planted and sprouts, a tiny girl named Thumbelina (Tommelise) emerges from its flower.

One night, Thumbelina, asleep in her walnut-shell cradle, is carried off by a toad who wants her as a bride for her son. With the help of friendly fish and a butterfly, Thumbelina escapes the toad and her son, and drifts on a lily pad until captured by a stag beetle who later discards her when his friends reject her company.

Thumbelina tries to protect herself from the elements. When winter comes, she is in desperate straits. She is finally given shelter by an old field mouse and tends her dwelling in gratitude. Thumbelina sees a swallow who is injured while visiting a mole, a neighbor of the field mouse. She meets the swallow one night and finds out what happened to him. She keeps on visiting the swallow during midnight without telling the field mouse and tries to help him gain strength and she frequently spends time with him singing songs and telling him stories and listening to his stories in the winter until spring arrives. The swallow, after becoming healthy, promises that he would come to that spot again and flies away saying goodbye to Thumbelina.

At the end of winter, the mouse suggests Thumbelina marry the mole, but Thumbelina finds the prospect of being married to such a creature repulsive because he spends all his days underground and never sees the sun or sky, even though he is impressive with his knowledge of ancient history and lots of other topics. The field mouse keeps pushing Thumbelina into the marriage, insisting the mole is a good match for her. Eventually Thumbelina sees little choice but to agree, but cannot bear the thought of the mole keeping her underground and never seeing the sun.

At the last minute, Thumbelina escapes the situation by fleeing to a far land with the swallow. In a sunny field of flowers, Thumbelina meets a tiny flower-fairy prince just her size and to her liking; they eventually wed. She receives a pair of wings to accompany her husband on his travels from flower to flower, and a new name, Maia. In the end, the swallow is heartbroken once Thumbelina marries the flower-fairy prince, and flies off eventually arriving at a small house. There, he tells Thumbelina’s story to a man who is implied to be Andersen himself, who chronicles the story in a book.[2]

Background[edit]

Hans Christian Andersen was born in Odense, Denmark on 2 April 1805 to Hans Andersen, a shoemaker, and Anne Marie Andersdatter.[3] An only child, Andersen shared a love of literature with his father, who read him The Arabian Nights and the fables of Jean de la Fontaine. Together, they constructed panoramas, pop-up pictures and toy theatres, and took long jaunts into the countryside.[4]

Andersen’s father died in 1816,[5] and from then on, Andersen was left on his own. In order to escape his poor, illiterate mother, he promoted his artistic inclinations and courted the cultured middle class of Odense, singing and reciting in their drawing-rooms. On 4 September 1819, the fourteen-year-old Andersen left Odense for Copenhagen with the few savings he had acquired from his performances, a letter of reference to the ballerina Madame Schall, and youthful dreams and intentions of becoming a poet or an actor.[6]

After three years of rejections and disappointments, he finally found a patron in Jonas Collin, the director of the Royal Theatre, who, believing in the boy’s potential, secured funds from the king to send Andersen to a grammar school in Slagelse, a provincial town in west Zealand, with the expectation that the boy would continue his education at Copenhagen University at the appropriate time.

At Slagelse, Andersen fell under the tutelage of Simon Meisling, a short, stout, balding thirty-five-year-old classicist and translator of Virgil’s Aeneid. Andersen was not the quickest student in the class and was given generous doses of Meisling’s contempt.[7] «You’re a stupid boy who will never make it», Meisling told him.[8] Meisling is believed to be the model for the learned mole in «Thumbelina».[9]

Fairy tale and folklorists Iona and Peter Opie have proposed the tale as a «distant tribute» to Andersen’s confidante, Henriette Wulff, the small, frail, hunchbacked daughter of the Danish translator of Shakespeare who loved Andersen as Thumbelina loves the swallow;[10] however, no written evidence exists to support the theory.[9]

Sources and inspiration[edit]

«Thumbelina» is essentially Andersen’s invention but takes inspiration from the traditional tale of «Tom Thumb» (both tales begin with a childless woman consulting a supernatural being about acquiring a child). Other inspirations were the six-inch Lilliputians in Jonathan Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels, Voltaire’s short story «Micromégas» with its cast of huge and miniature peoples, and E. T. A. Hoffmann’s hallucinatory, erotic tale «Meister Floh», in which a tiny lady a span in height torments the hero. A tiny girl figures in Andersen’s prose fantasy «A Journey on Foot from Holmen’s Canal to the East Point of Amager» (1828),[9][11] and a literary image similar to Andersen’s tiny being inside a flower is found in E. T. A. Hoffmann’s «Princess Brambilla» (1821).[12]

Publication and critical reception[edit]

Andersen published two installments of his first collection of Fairy Tales Told for Children in 1835, the first in May and the second in December. «Thumbelina» was first published in the December installment by C. A. Reitzel on 16 December 1835 in Copenhagen. «Thumbelina» was the first tale in the booklet which included two other tales: «The Naughty Boy» and «The Traveling Companion». The story was republished in collected editions of Andersen’s works in 1850 and 1862.[13]

The first reviews of the seven tales of 1835 did not appear until 1836 and the Danish critics were not enthusiastic. The informal, chatty style of the tales and their lack of morals were considered inappropriate in children’s literature. One critic however acknowledged «Thumbelina» to be «the most delightful fairy tale you could wish for».[14]

The critics offered Andersen no further encouragement. One literary journal never mentioned the tales at all while another advised Andersen not to waste his time writing fairy tales. One critic stated that Andersen «lacked the usual form of that kind of poetry […] and would not study models». Andersen felt he was working against their preconceived notions of what a fairy tale should be, and returned to novel-writing, believing it was his true calling.[15] The critical reaction to the 1835 tales was so harsh that he waited an entire year before publishing «The Little Mermaid» and «The Emperor’s New Clothes» in the third and final installment of Fairy Tales Told for Children.

English translations[edit]

In 1861, Alfred Wehnert translated the tale into English in Andersen’s Tales for Children under the title Little Thumb.[16] Mary Howitt published the story as «Tommelise» in Wonderful Stories for Children in 1846. However, she did not approve of the opening scene with the witch, and, instead, had the childless woman provide bread and milk to a hungry beggar woman who then rewarded her hostess with a barleycorn.[10] Charles Boner also translated the tale in 1846 as «Little Ellie» while Madame de Chatelain dubbed the child ‘Little Totty’ in her 1852 translation. The editor of The Child’s Own Book (1853) called the child throughout, ‘Little Maja’.

H. W. Dulcken was probably the translator responsible for the name, ‘Thumbelina’. His widely published volumes of Andersen’s tales appeared in 1864 and 1866.[10] Mrs. H.B. Paulli translated the name as ‘Little Tiny’ in the late-nineteenth century.[17]

In the twentieth century, Erik Christian Haugaard translated the name as ‘Inchelina’ in 1974,[18] and Jeffrey and Diane Crone Frank translated the name as ‘Thumbelisa’ in 2005. Modern English translations of «Thumbelina» are found in the six-volume complete edition of Andersen’s tales from the 1940s by Jean Hersholt, and Erik Christian Haugaard’s translation of the complete tales in 1974.[19]

[edit]

For fairy tale researchers and folklorists Iona and Peter Opie, «Thumbelina» is an adventure story from the feminine point of view with its moral being people are happiest with their own kind. They point out that Thumbelina is a passive character, the victim of circumstances; whereas her male counterpart Tom Thumb (one of the tale’s inspirations) is an active character, makes himself felt, and exerts himself.[10]

Folklorist Maria Tatar sees «Thumbelina» as a runaway bride story and notes that it has been viewed as an allegory about arranged marriages, and a fable about being true to one’s heart that upholds the traditional notion that the love of a prince is to be valued above all else. She points out that in Hindu belief, a thumb-sized being known as the innermost self or soul dwells in the heart of all beings, human or animal, and that the concept may have migrated to European folklore and taken form as Tom Thumb and Thumbelina, both of whom seek transfiguration and redemption. She detects parallels between Andersen’s tale and the Greek myth of Demeter and her daughter, Persephone, and, notwithstanding the pagan associations and allusions in the tale, notes that «Thumbelina» repeatedly refers to Christ’s suffering and resurrection, and the Christian concept of salvation.[20]

Andersen biographer Jackie Wullschlager indicates that «Thumbelina» was the first of Andersen’s tales to dramatize the sufferings of one who is different, and, as a result of being different, becomes the object of mockery. It was also the first of Andersen’s tales to incorporate the swallow as the symbol of the poetic soul and Andersen’s identification with the swallow as a migratory bird whose pattern of life his own traveling days were beginning to resemble.[21]

Roger Sale believes Andersen expressed his feelings of social and sexual inferiority by creating characters that are inferior to their beloveds. The Little Mermaid, for example, has no soul while her human beloved has a soul as his birthright. In «Thumbelina», Andersen suggests the toad, the beetle, and the mole are Thumbelina’s inferiors and should remain in their places rather than wanting their superior. Sale indicates they are not inferior to Thumbelina but simply different. He suggests that Andersen may have done some damage to the animal world when he colored his animal characters with his own feelings of inferiority.[22]

Jacqueline Banerjee views the tale as a success story. «Not surprisingly,» she writes, «”Thumbelina» is now often read as a story of specifically female empowerment.»[23] Susie Stephens believes Thumbelina herself is a grotesque, and observes that «the grotesque in children’s literature is […] a necessary and beneficial component that enhances the psychological welfare of the young reader». Children are attracted to the cathartic qualities of the grotesque, she suggests.[24] Sidney Rosenblatt in his essay «Thumbelina and the Development of Female Sexuality» believes the tale may be analyzed, from the perspective of Freudian psychoanalysis, as the story of female masturbation. Thumbelina herself, he posits, could symbolize the clitoris, her rose petal coverlet the labia, the white butterfly «the budding genitals», and the mole and the prince the anal and vaginal openings respectively.[25]

Adaptations[edit]

Animation[edit]

The earliest animated version of the tale is a silent black-and-white release by director Herbert M. Dawley in 1924.[citation needed] Lotte Reiniger released a 10-minute cinematic adaptation in 1954 featuring her «silhouette» puppets.[26]

In 1964 Soyuzmultfilm released Dyuymovochka, a half-hour Russian adaptation of the fairy tale directed by Leonid Amalrik.[citation needed] Although the screenplay by Nikolai Erdman stayed faithful to the story, it was noted for satirical characters and dialogues (many of them turned into catchphrases).[27]

In 1992, Golden Films released Thumbelina (1992),[citation needed] and Tom Thumb Meets Thumbelina afterwards. A Japanese animated series adapted the plot and made it into a movie, Thumbelina: A Magical Story (1992), released in 1993.[28]

On March 30, 1994, Warner Brothers released the animated film Thumbelina (1994),[29] directed by Don Bluth and Gary Goldman, with Jodi Benson as the voice of Thumbelina.

Live action[edit]

On June 11, 1985, a television dramatization of the tale was broadcast as the 12th episode of the anthology series Faerie Tale Theatre. The production starred Carrie Fisher.[30]

Footnotes[edit]

  1. ^ Wullschlager 2002, p. 165.
  2. ^ Opie & Opie 1974, pp. 221–9
  3. ^ Wullschlager 2002, p. 9
  4. ^ Wullschlager 2002, p. 13
  5. ^ Wullschlager 2002, pp. 25–26
  6. ^ Wullschlager 2002, pp. 32–33
  7. ^ Wullschlager 2002, pp. 60–61
  8. ^ Frank & Frank 2005, p. 77
  9. ^ a b c Frank & Frank 2005, p. 76
  10. ^ a b c d Opie & Opie 1974, p. 219
  11. ^ Wullschlager 2002, p. 162.
  12. ^ Frank & Frank 2005, pp. 75–76
  13. ^ «Hans Christian Andersen: Thumbelina». Hans Christian Andersen Center. Retrieved 2009-08-22.
  14. ^ Wullschlager 2002, p. 165
  15. ^ Andersen 2000, p. 335
  16. ^ Andersen, Hans Christian (1861). Andersen’s Tales for Children. Bell and Daldy.
  17. ^ Eastman, p. 258
  18. ^ Andersen 1983, p. 29
  19. ^ Classe 2000, p. 42
  20. ^ Andersen 2008, pp. 193–194, 205
  21. ^ Wullschlager 2002, p. 163
  22. ^ Sale 1978, pp. 65–68
  23. ^ Banerjee, Jacqueline (2008). «The Power of «Faerie»: Hans Christian Andersen as a Children’s Writer». The Victorian Web: Literature, History, & Culture in the Age of Victoria. Retrieved 2009-08-22.
  24. ^ Stephens, Susie. «The Grotesque in Children’s Literature». Retrieved 2009-08-22.
  25. ^ Siegel 1992, pp. 123, 126
  26. ^ «Däumlienchen». IMDb.
  27. ^ Petr Bagrov. Swine-herd and Stableman. From Hans Christian to Christian Hans article from Seance № 25/26, 2005 ISSN 0136-0108 (in Russian)
  28. ^ Clements, Jonathan; Helen McCarthy (2001-09-01). The Anime Encyclopedia: A Guide to Japanese Animation Since 1917 (1st ed.). Berkeley, California: Stone Bridge Press. p. 399. ISBN 1-880656-64-7. OCLC 47255331.
  29. ^ «Thumbelina — Character Designs, Cornelius, Thumbelina, and Bumble Bee». SCAD Libraries. Retrieved 8 December 2021.
  30. ^ «DVD Verdict Review — Shelley Duvall’s Faerie Tale Theatre: The Complete Collection». dvdverdict.com. Archived from the original on 2011-06-17.

References[edit]

  • Andersen, Hans Christian (1983) [1974]. The Complete Fairy Tales and Stories. Translated by Haugaard, Erik Christian. New York, NY: Anchor Books. ISBN 0-385-18951-6.
  • Andersen, Hans Christian (2000) [1871]. The Fairy Tale of My Life. New York, NY: Cooper Square Press. ISBN 0-8154-1105-7.
  • Andersen, Hans Christian (2008). Tatar, Maria (ed.). The Annotated Hans Christian Andersen. New York: W.W. Norton. ISBN 9780393060812.
  • Classe, O., ed. (2000). Encyclopedia of Literary Translation into English; v.2. Chicago, IL: Fitzroy Dearborn Publishers. ISBN 1-884964-36-2.
  • Eastman, Mary Huse (ed.). Index to Fairy Tales, Myths and Legends. BiblioLife, LLC.
  • Frank, Diane Crone; Frank, Jeffrey (2005). The Stories of Hans Christian Andersen. Durham, NC and London, UK: Duke University Press. ISBN 0-8223-3693-6.
  • Opie, Iona; Opie, Peter (1974). The Classic Fairy Tales. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press. ISBN 0-19-211559-6.
  • Sale, Roger (1978). Fairy Tales and After: From Snow White to E.B. White. New Haven, CT: Harvard University Press. ISBN 0-674-29157-3.
  • Siegel, Elaine V., ed. (1992). Psychoanalytic Perspectives on Women. New York, NY: Brunner/Mazel, Inc. ISBN 0-87630-655-5.
  • Wullschlager, Jackie (2002). Hans Christian Andersen: The Life of a Storyteller. Chicago, IL: The University of Chicago Press. ISBN 0-226-91747-9.

External links[edit]

Wikimedia Commons has media related to Thumbelina.

  • Thumbelina English translation by Jean Hersholt
  • Thumbelina: The Musical Musical of Thumbelina by Chris Seed and Maxine Gallagher

Wikisource has original text related to this article:

This article is about the 1835 literary fairy tale by Hans Christian Andersen. For other uses, see Thumbelina (disambiguation).

«Thumbelina»
by Hans Christian Andersen
Calineczka VP ubt.jpeg

Illustration by Vilhelm Pedersen,
Andersen’s first illustrator

Original title Tommelise
Translator Mary Howitt
Country Denmark
Language Danish
Genre(s) Literary fairy tale
Published in Fairy Tales Told for Children. First Collection. Second Booklet. 1835. (Eventyr, fortalte for Børn. Første Samling. Andet Hefte. 1835.)
Publication type Fairy tale collection
Publisher C. A. Reitzel
Media type Print
Publication date 16 December 1835
Published in English 1846
Chronology
← Preceded by
Little Ida’s Flowers
Followed by →
The Naughty Boy
Full text
Thumbelina at Wikisource

Thumbelina (; Danish: Tommelise) is a literary novel bedtime story fairy tale written by the famous Danish author Hans Christian Andersen first published by C. A. Reitzel on 16 December 1835 in Copenhagen, Denmark, with «The Naughty Boy» and «The Travelling Companion» in the second instalment of Fairy Tales Told for Children. Thumbelina is about a tiny girl and her adventures with marriage-minded toads, moles, and cockchafers. She successfully avoids their intentions before falling in love with a flower-fairy prince just her size.

Thumbelina is chiefly Andersen’s invention, though he did take inspiration from tales of miniature people such as «Tom Thumb». Thumbelina was published as one of a series of seven fairy tales in 1835 which were not well received by the Danish critics who disliked their informal style and their lack of morals. One critic, however, applauded Thumbelina.[1] The earliest English translation of Thumbelina is dated 1846. The tale has been adapted to various media including television drama and animated film.

Plot[edit]

A woman yearning for a child asks a witch for advice, and is presented with a barley which she is told to go home and plant (in the first English translation of 1847 by Mary Howitt, the tale opens with a beggar woman giving a peasant’s wife a barleycorn in exchange for food). After the barleycorn is planted and sprouts, a tiny girl named Thumbelina (Tommelise) emerges from its flower.

One night, Thumbelina, asleep in her walnut-shell cradle, is carried off by a toad who wants her as a bride for her son. With the help of friendly fish and a butterfly, Thumbelina escapes the toad and her son, and drifts on a lily pad until captured by a stag beetle who later discards her when his friends reject her company.

Thumbelina tries to protect herself from the elements. When winter comes, she is in desperate straits. She is finally given shelter by an old field mouse and tends her dwelling in gratitude. Thumbelina sees a swallow who is injured while visiting a mole, a neighbor of the field mouse. She meets the swallow one night and finds out what happened to him. She keeps on visiting the swallow during midnight without telling the field mouse and tries to help him gain strength and she frequently spends time with him singing songs and telling him stories and listening to his stories in the winter until spring arrives. The swallow, after becoming healthy, promises that he would come to that spot again and flies away saying goodbye to Thumbelina.

At the end of winter, the mouse suggests Thumbelina marry the mole, but Thumbelina finds the prospect of being married to such a creature repulsive because he spends all his days underground and never sees the sun or sky, even though he is impressive with his knowledge of ancient history and lots of other topics. The field mouse keeps pushing Thumbelina into the marriage, insisting the mole is a good match for her. Eventually Thumbelina sees little choice but to agree, but cannot bear the thought of the mole keeping her underground and never seeing the sun.

At the last minute, Thumbelina escapes the situation by fleeing to a far land with the swallow. In a sunny field of flowers, Thumbelina meets a tiny flower-fairy prince just her size and to her liking; they eventually wed. She receives a pair of wings to accompany her husband on his travels from flower to flower, and a new name, Maia. In the end, the swallow is heartbroken once Thumbelina marries the flower-fairy prince, and flies off eventually arriving at a small house. There, he tells Thumbelina’s story to a man who is implied to be Andersen himself, who chronicles the story in a book.[2]

Background[edit]

Hans Christian Andersen was born in Odense, Denmark on 2 April 1805 to Hans Andersen, a shoemaker, and Anne Marie Andersdatter.[3] An only child, Andersen shared a love of literature with his father, who read him The Arabian Nights and the fables of Jean de la Fontaine. Together, they constructed panoramas, pop-up pictures and toy theatres, and took long jaunts into the countryside.[4]

Andersen’s father died in 1816,[5] and from then on, Andersen was left on his own. In order to escape his poor, illiterate mother, he promoted his artistic inclinations and courted the cultured middle class of Odense, singing and reciting in their drawing-rooms. On 4 September 1819, the fourteen-year-old Andersen left Odense for Copenhagen with the few savings he had acquired from his performances, a letter of reference to the ballerina Madame Schall, and youthful dreams and intentions of becoming a poet or an actor.[6]

After three years of rejections and disappointments, he finally found a patron in Jonas Collin, the director of the Royal Theatre, who, believing in the boy’s potential, secured funds from the king to send Andersen to a grammar school in Slagelse, a provincial town in west Zealand, with the expectation that the boy would continue his education at Copenhagen University at the appropriate time.

At Slagelse, Andersen fell under the tutelage of Simon Meisling, a short, stout, balding thirty-five-year-old classicist and translator of Virgil’s Aeneid. Andersen was not the quickest student in the class and was given generous doses of Meisling’s contempt.[7] «You’re a stupid boy who will never make it», Meisling told him.[8] Meisling is believed to be the model for the learned mole in «Thumbelina».[9]

Fairy tale and folklorists Iona and Peter Opie have proposed the tale as a «distant tribute» to Andersen’s confidante, Henriette Wulff, the small, frail, hunchbacked daughter of the Danish translator of Shakespeare who loved Andersen as Thumbelina loves the swallow;[10] however, no written evidence exists to support the theory.[9]

Sources and inspiration[edit]

«Thumbelina» is essentially Andersen’s invention but takes inspiration from the traditional tale of «Tom Thumb» (both tales begin with a childless woman consulting a supernatural being about acquiring a child). Other inspirations were the six-inch Lilliputians in Jonathan Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels, Voltaire’s short story «Micromégas» with its cast of huge and miniature peoples, and E. T. A. Hoffmann’s hallucinatory, erotic tale «Meister Floh», in which a tiny lady a span in height torments the hero. A tiny girl figures in Andersen’s prose fantasy «A Journey on Foot from Holmen’s Canal to the East Point of Amager» (1828),[9][11] and a literary image similar to Andersen’s tiny being inside a flower is found in E. T. A. Hoffmann’s «Princess Brambilla» (1821).[12]

Publication and critical reception[edit]

Andersen published two installments of his first collection of Fairy Tales Told for Children in 1835, the first in May and the second in December. «Thumbelina» was first published in the December installment by C. A. Reitzel on 16 December 1835 in Copenhagen. «Thumbelina» was the first tale in the booklet which included two other tales: «The Naughty Boy» and «The Traveling Companion». The story was republished in collected editions of Andersen’s works in 1850 and 1862.[13]

The first reviews of the seven tales of 1835 did not appear until 1836 and the Danish critics were not enthusiastic. The informal, chatty style of the tales and their lack of morals were considered inappropriate in children’s literature. One critic however acknowledged «Thumbelina» to be «the most delightful fairy tale you could wish for».[14]

The critics offered Andersen no further encouragement. One literary journal never mentioned the tales at all while another advised Andersen not to waste his time writing fairy tales. One critic stated that Andersen «lacked the usual form of that kind of poetry […] and would not study models». Andersen felt he was working against their preconceived notions of what a fairy tale should be, and returned to novel-writing, believing it was his true calling.[15] The critical reaction to the 1835 tales was so harsh that he waited an entire year before publishing «The Little Mermaid» and «The Emperor’s New Clothes» in the third and final installment of Fairy Tales Told for Children.

English translations[edit]

In 1861, Alfred Wehnert translated the tale into English in Andersen’s Tales for Children under the title Little Thumb.[16] Mary Howitt published the story as «Tommelise» in Wonderful Stories for Children in 1846. However, she did not approve of the opening scene with the witch, and, instead, had the childless woman provide bread and milk to a hungry beggar woman who then rewarded her hostess with a barleycorn.[10] Charles Boner also translated the tale in 1846 as «Little Ellie» while Madame de Chatelain dubbed the child ‘Little Totty’ in her 1852 translation. The editor of The Child’s Own Book (1853) called the child throughout, ‘Little Maja’.

H. W. Dulcken was probably the translator responsible for the name, ‘Thumbelina’. His widely published volumes of Andersen’s tales appeared in 1864 and 1866.[10] Mrs. H.B. Paulli translated the name as ‘Little Tiny’ in the late-nineteenth century.[17]

In the twentieth century, Erik Christian Haugaard translated the name as ‘Inchelina’ in 1974,[18] and Jeffrey and Diane Crone Frank translated the name as ‘Thumbelisa’ in 2005. Modern English translations of «Thumbelina» are found in the six-volume complete edition of Andersen’s tales from the 1940s by Jean Hersholt, and Erik Christian Haugaard’s translation of the complete tales in 1974.[19]

[edit]

For fairy tale researchers and folklorists Iona and Peter Opie, «Thumbelina» is an adventure story from the feminine point of view with its moral being people are happiest with their own kind. They point out that Thumbelina is a passive character, the victim of circumstances; whereas her male counterpart Tom Thumb (one of the tale’s inspirations) is an active character, makes himself felt, and exerts himself.[10]

Folklorist Maria Tatar sees «Thumbelina» as a runaway bride story and notes that it has been viewed as an allegory about arranged marriages, and a fable about being true to one’s heart that upholds the traditional notion that the love of a prince is to be valued above all else. She points out that in Hindu belief, a thumb-sized being known as the innermost self or soul dwells in the heart of all beings, human or animal, and that the concept may have migrated to European folklore and taken form as Tom Thumb and Thumbelina, both of whom seek transfiguration and redemption. She detects parallels between Andersen’s tale and the Greek myth of Demeter and her daughter, Persephone, and, notwithstanding the pagan associations and allusions in the tale, notes that «Thumbelina» repeatedly refers to Christ’s suffering and resurrection, and the Christian concept of salvation.[20]

Andersen biographer Jackie Wullschlager indicates that «Thumbelina» was the first of Andersen’s tales to dramatize the sufferings of one who is different, and, as a result of being different, becomes the object of mockery. It was also the first of Andersen’s tales to incorporate the swallow as the symbol of the poetic soul and Andersen’s identification with the swallow as a migratory bird whose pattern of life his own traveling days were beginning to resemble.[21]

Roger Sale believes Andersen expressed his feelings of social and sexual inferiority by creating characters that are inferior to their beloveds. The Little Mermaid, for example, has no soul while her human beloved has a soul as his birthright. In «Thumbelina», Andersen suggests the toad, the beetle, and the mole are Thumbelina’s inferiors and should remain in their places rather than wanting their superior. Sale indicates they are not inferior to Thumbelina but simply different. He suggests that Andersen may have done some damage to the animal world when he colored his animal characters with his own feelings of inferiority.[22]

Jacqueline Banerjee views the tale as a success story. «Not surprisingly,» she writes, «”Thumbelina» is now often read as a story of specifically female empowerment.»[23] Susie Stephens believes Thumbelina herself is a grotesque, and observes that «the grotesque in children’s literature is […] a necessary and beneficial component that enhances the psychological welfare of the young reader». Children are attracted to the cathartic qualities of the grotesque, she suggests.[24] Sidney Rosenblatt in his essay «Thumbelina and the Development of Female Sexuality» believes the tale may be analyzed, from the perspective of Freudian psychoanalysis, as the story of female masturbation. Thumbelina herself, he posits, could symbolize the clitoris, her rose petal coverlet the labia, the white butterfly «the budding genitals», and the mole and the prince the anal and vaginal openings respectively.[25]

Adaptations[edit]

Animation[edit]

The earliest animated version of the tale is a silent black-and-white release by director Herbert M. Dawley in 1924.[citation needed] Lotte Reiniger released a 10-minute cinematic adaptation in 1954 featuring her «silhouette» puppets.[26]

In 1964 Soyuzmultfilm released Dyuymovochka, a half-hour Russian adaptation of the fairy tale directed by Leonid Amalrik.[citation needed] Although the screenplay by Nikolai Erdman stayed faithful to the story, it was noted for satirical characters and dialogues (many of them turned into catchphrases).[27]

In 1992, Golden Films released Thumbelina (1992),[citation needed] and Tom Thumb Meets Thumbelina afterwards. A Japanese animated series adapted the plot and made it into a movie, Thumbelina: A Magical Story (1992), released in 1993.[28]

On March 30, 1994, Warner Brothers released the animated film Thumbelina (1994),[29] directed by Don Bluth and Gary Goldman, with Jodi Benson as the voice of Thumbelina.

Live action[edit]

On June 11, 1985, a television dramatization of the tale was broadcast as the 12th episode of the anthology series Faerie Tale Theatre. The production starred Carrie Fisher.[30]

Footnotes[edit]

  1. ^ Wullschlager 2002, p. 165.
  2. ^ Opie & Opie 1974, pp. 221–9
  3. ^ Wullschlager 2002, p. 9
  4. ^ Wullschlager 2002, p. 13
  5. ^ Wullschlager 2002, pp. 25–26
  6. ^ Wullschlager 2002, pp. 32–33
  7. ^ Wullschlager 2002, pp. 60–61
  8. ^ Frank & Frank 2005, p. 77
  9. ^ a b c Frank & Frank 2005, p. 76
  10. ^ a b c d Opie & Opie 1974, p. 219
  11. ^ Wullschlager 2002, p. 162.
  12. ^ Frank & Frank 2005, pp. 75–76
  13. ^ «Hans Christian Andersen: Thumbelina». Hans Christian Andersen Center. Retrieved 2009-08-22.
  14. ^ Wullschlager 2002, p. 165
  15. ^ Andersen 2000, p. 335
  16. ^ Andersen, Hans Christian (1861). Andersen’s Tales for Children. Bell and Daldy.
  17. ^ Eastman, p. 258
  18. ^ Andersen 1983, p. 29
  19. ^ Classe 2000, p. 42
  20. ^ Andersen 2008, pp. 193–194, 205
  21. ^ Wullschlager 2002, p. 163
  22. ^ Sale 1978, pp. 65–68
  23. ^ Banerjee, Jacqueline (2008). «The Power of «Faerie»: Hans Christian Andersen as a Children’s Writer». The Victorian Web: Literature, History, & Culture in the Age of Victoria. Retrieved 2009-08-22.
  24. ^ Stephens, Susie. «The Grotesque in Children’s Literature». Retrieved 2009-08-22.
  25. ^ Siegel 1992, pp. 123, 126
  26. ^ «Däumlienchen». IMDb.
  27. ^ Petr Bagrov. Swine-herd and Stableman. From Hans Christian to Christian Hans article from Seance № 25/26, 2005 ISSN 0136-0108 (in Russian)
  28. ^ Clements, Jonathan; Helen McCarthy (2001-09-01). The Anime Encyclopedia: A Guide to Japanese Animation Since 1917 (1st ed.). Berkeley, California: Stone Bridge Press. p. 399. ISBN 1-880656-64-7. OCLC 47255331.
  29. ^ «Thumbelina — Character Designs, Cornelius, Thumbelina, and Bumble Bee». SCAD Libraries. Retrieved 8 December 2021.
  30. ^ «DVD Verdict Review — Shelley Duvall’s Faerie Tale Theatre: The Complete Collection». dvdverdict.com. Archived from the original on 2011-06-17.

References[edit]

  • Andersen, Hans Christian (1983) [1974]. The Complete Fairy Tales and Stories. Translated by Haugaard, Erik Christian. New York, NY: Anchor Books. ISBN 0-385-18951-6.
  • Andersen, Hans Christian (2000) [1871]. The Fairy Tale of My Life. New York, NY: Cooper Square Press. ISBN 0-8154-1105-7.
  • Andersen, Hans Christian (2008). Tatar, Maria (ed.). The Annotated Hans Christian Andersen. New York: W.W. Norton. ISBN 9780393060812.
  • Classe, O., ed. (2000). Encyclopedia of Literary Translation into English; v.2. Chicago, IL: Fitzroy Dearborn Publishers. ISBN 1-884964-36-2.
  • Eastman, Mary Huse (ed.). Index to Fairy Tales, Myths and Legends. BiblioLife, LLC.
  • Frank, Diane Crone; Frank, Jeffrey (2005). The Stories of Hans Christian Andersen. Durham, NC and London, UK: Duke University Press. ISBN 0-8223-3693-6.
  • Opie, Iona; Opie, Peter (1974). The Classic Fairy Tales. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press. ISBN 0-19-211559-6.
  • Sale, Roger (1978). Fairy Tales and After: From Snow White to E.B. White. New Haven, CT: Harvard University Press. ISBN 0-674-29157-3.
  • Siegel, Elaine V., ed. (1992). Psychoanalytic Perspectives on Women. New York, NY: Brunner/Mazel, Inc. ISBN 0-87630-655-5.
  • Wullschlager, Jackie (2002). Hans Christian Andersen: The Life of a Storyteller. Chicago, IL: The University of Chicago Press. ISBN 0-226-91747-9.

External links[edit]

Wikimedia Commons has media related to Thumbelina.

  • Thumbelina English translation by Jean Hersholt
  • Thumbelina: The Musical Musical of Thumbelina by Chris Seed and Maxine Gallagher

Wikisource has original text related to this article:

на русском /  in english

Дюймовочка

duymЖила на свете одна женщина. У нее не было детей, а ей очень хотелось ребеночка. Вот пошла она к старой колдунье и говорит:

— Мне так хочется, чтоб у меня была дочка, хоть самая маленькая!..

— Чего же проще! — ответила колдунья. — Вот тебе ячменное зерно. Это зерно не простое, не из тех, что зреют у вас на полях и родятся птице на корм. Возьми-ка его да посади в цветочный горшок. Увидишь, что будет.

— Спасибо тебе! — сказала женщина и дала колдунье двенадцать медяков.

Потом она пошла домой и посадила ячменное зернышко в цветочный горшок.

Только она его полила, зернышко сразу же проросло. Из земли показались два листочка и нежный стебель. А на стебле появился большой чудесный цветок, вроде тюльпана. Но лепестки цветка были плотно сжаты: он еще не распустился.

— Какой прелестный цветок! — сказала женщина и поцеловала красивые пестрые лепестки.

В ту же минуту в сердцевине цветка что-то щелкнуло, и он раскрылся. Это был в самом деле большой тюльпан, но в чашечке его сидела живая девочка. Она была маленькая-маленькая, всего в дюйм ростом. Поэтому ее так и прозвали — Дюймовочка.

Колыбельку для Дюймовочки сделали из блестящей лакированной скорлупки грецкого ореха. Вместо перинки туда положили несколько фиалок, а вместо одеяльца — лепесток розы. В эту колыбельку девочку укладывали на ночь, а днем она играла на столе.

Посередине стола женщина поставила глубокую тарелку с водой, а по краю тарелки разложила цветы. Длинные стебельки их купались в воде, и цветы долго оставались свежими и душистыми.

Для маленькой Дюймовочки тарелка с водой была целым озером, и она плавала по этому озеру на лепестке тюльпана, как на лодочке. Вместо весел у нее были два белых конских волоса. Дюймовочка целые дни каталась на своей чудесной лодочке, переплывала с одной стороны тарелки на другую и распевала песни. Такого нежного голоска, как у нее, никто никогда не слышал.

Однажды ночью, когда Дюймовочка спала в своей колыбельке, через открытое окно в комнату пробралась большущая старая жаба, мокрая и безобразная. С подоконника она прыгнула на стол и заглянула в скорлупку, где спала под лепестком розы Дюймовочка.

— Как хороша! — сказала старая жаба. — Славная невеста будет моему сыну!

Она схватила ореховую скорлупку с девочкой и выпрыгнула через окно в сад.

Возле сада протекала речка, а под самым ее берегом было топкое болотце. Здесь-то, в болотной тине, и жила старая жаба со своим сыном. Сын был тоже мокрый и безобразный — точь-в-точь мамаша!

— Коакс, коакс, брекке-ке-кекс! — только и мог он сказать, когда увидел маленькую девочку в ореховой скорлупке.

— Тише ты! Еще разбудишь, чего доброго, и она убежит от нас, — сказала старая жаба. — Ведь она легче перышка. Давай-ка отнесем ее на середину реки и посадим там на лист кувшинки — для такой крошки это целый остров. Оттуда уж ей ни за что не убежать. А я тем временем устрою для вас в тине уютное гнездышко.

В реке росло много кувшинок. Их широкие зеленые листья плавали по воде. Самый большой лист был дальше всех от берега! Жаба подплыла к этому листу и поставила на него ореховую скорлупку, в которой спала девочка.

Ах, как испугалась бедная Дюймовочка, проснувшись поутру! Да и как было не испугаться! Со всех сторон ее окружала вода, а берег чуть виднелся вдали. Дюймовочка закрыла глаза руками и горько заплакала.

А старая жаба сидела в тине и украшала свой дом камышом и желтыми кувшинками, — она хотела угодить молодой невестке. Когда все было готово, она подплыла со своим гадким сынком к листу, на котором сидела Дюймовочка, чтобы взять ее кроватку и перенести к себе в дом.

Сладко улыбнувшись, старая жаба низко присела в воде перед девочкой и сказала:

— Вот мой сынок! Он будет твоим мужем! Вы славно заживете с ним у нас в тине.

— Коакс, коакс, брекке-ке-кекс! — только и мог сказать сынок.

Жабы взяли скорлупку и уплыли с ней. А Дюймовочка все стояла одна посреди реки на большом зеленом листе кувшинки и горько-горько плакала — ей вовсе не хотелось жить у гадкой жабы и выходить замуж за ее противного сына.

Маленькие рыбки, которые плавали под водой, услыхали, что сказала старуха жаба. Жениха с матушкой они видели и раньше. Теперь они высунули из воды головы, чтобы поглядеть на невесту.

Взглянув на Дюймовочку своими круглыми глазками, они ушли на самое дно и стали думать, что же теперь делать. Им было ужасно жалко, что такой миленькой маленькой девочке придется жить вместе с этими отвратительными жабами где-нибудь под корягой в густой жирной тине. Не бывать же этому! Рыбки со всей речки собрались у листа кувшинки, на котором сидела Дюймовочка, и перегрызли стебелек листа.

И вот лист кувшинки поплыл по течению. Течение было сильное, и лист плыл очень быстро. Теперь-то уж старая жаба никак не могла бы догнать Дюймовочку.

Дюймовочка плыла все дальше и дальше, а маленькие птички, которые сидели в кустах, смотрели на нее и пели:

— Какая миленькая маленькая девочка!

Легкий белый мотылек все кружился над Дюймовочкой и наконец опустился на лист — уж очень ему понравилась эта крошечная путешественница.

А Дюймовочка сняла свой шелковый пояс, один конец набросила на мотылька, другой привязала к листу, и листок поплыл еще быстрее. В это время мимо пролетал майский жук. Он увидел Дюймовочку, схватил ее и унес на дерево. Зеленый лист кувшинки поплыл без нее дальше и скоро скрылся из виду, а с ним вместе и мотылек: ведь он был крепко привязан к листу шелковым поясом.

Как испугалась бедная Дюймовочка, когда рогатый жук обхватил ее лапками и взвился с ней высоко в воздух! Да и белого мотылька ей было очень жалко. Что-то с ним теперь будет? Ведь он умрет с голоду, если ему не удастся освободиться.

А майскому жуку и горя мало. Он уселся на ветке большого дерева, усадил рядом Дюймовочку и сказал ей, что она ему очень нравится, хоть и совсем не похожа на майских жуков.

Потом к ним пришли в гости другие майские жуки, которые жили на том же дереве. Они с любопытством разглядывали Дюймовочку, а их дочки в недоумении разводили крылышками.

— У нее только две ножки! — говорили одни.

— У нее даже нет щупалец! — говорили другие.

— Какая она слабенькая, тоненькая! Того и гляди, переломится пополам, — говорили третьи.

— Очень на человека похожа, и к тому же некрасивая, — решили наконец все жуки.

Даже майскому жуку, который принес Дюймовочку, показалось теперь, что она совсем нехороша, и он решил с ней распрощаться — пусть идет куда знает. Он слетел с Дюймовочкой вниз и посадил ее на ромашку.

Дюймовочка сидела на цветке и плакала: ей было грустно, что она такая некрасивая. Даже майские жуки прогнали ее!

А на самом деле она была премиленькая. Пожалуй, лучше ее и на свете-то никого не было.

Все лето прожила Дюймовочка одна-одинешенька в большом лесу. Она сплела себе из травы колыбельку и подвесила ее под большим листом лопуха, чтобы укрываться от дождя и от солнышка. Она ела сладкий цветочный мед и пила росу, которую каждое утро находила на листьях.

Так прошло лето, прошла и осень. Близилась долгая холодная зима. Птицы улетели, цветы завяли, а большой лист лопуха, под которым жила Дюймовочка, пожелтел, засох и свернулся в трубку.

Холод пробирал Дюймовочку насквозь. Платьице ее все изорвалось, а она была такая маленькая, нежная — как тут не мерзнуть! Пошел снег, и каждая снежинка была для Дюймовочки то же, что для нас целая лопата снега. Мы-то ведь большие, а она была ростом всего-навсего с дюйм. Она завернулась было в сухой лист, но он совсем не грел, и бедняжка сама дрожала, как осенний листок на ветру.

Тогда Дюймовочка решила уйти из лесу и поискать себе приют на зиму.

За лесом, в котором она жила, было большое поле. Хлеб с поля уже давно убрали, и только короткие сухие стебельки торчали из мерзлой земли.

В поле было еще холоднее, чем в лесу, и Дюймовочка совсем замерзла, пока пробиралась между высохшими жесткими стеблями.

Наконец она добрела до норки полевой мыши. Вход в норку был заботливо прикрыт травинками и былинками.

Полевая мышь жила в тепле и довольстве: кухня и кладовая у нее были битком набиты хлебными зернами. Дюймовочка, как нищенка, остановилась у порога и попросила подать ей хоть кусочек ячменного зерна — вот уже два дня во рту у нее не было ни крошки.

— Ах ты, бедняжка! — сказала полевая мышь (она была, в сущности, добрая старуха). Ну иди сюда, погрейся да поешь со мною!

И Дюймовочка спустилась в норку, обогрелась и поела.

— Ты мне нравиться, — сказала ей мыть, поглядев на нее блестящими, как бисер, черными глазками. — Оставайся-ка у меня на зиму. Я буду кормить тебя, а ты прибирай хорошенько мой дом да рассказывай мне сказки — я до них большая охотница.

И Дюймовочка осталась.

Она делала все, что приказывала ей старая мышь, и жилось ей совсем неплохо в теплой укромной норке.

— Скоро у нас будут гости, — сказала ей однажды полевая мышь. — Раз в неделю меня приходит навестить мой сосед. Он очень богат и живет куда лучше меня. У него большой дом под землей, а шубу он носит такую, какой ты, верно, и не видывала, — великолепную черную шубу! Выходи, девочка, за него замуж! С ним не пропадешь! Одна беда: он слеп и не разглядит, какая ты хорошенькая. Ну, уж ты зато расскажешь ему самую лучшую сказку, какую только знаешь.

Но Дюймовочке вовсе не хотелось выходить замуж за богатого соседа: ведь это был крот — угрюмый подземный житель.

Вскоре сосед и в самом деле пришел к ним в гости.

Правда, шубу он носил очень нарядную — из темного бархата. К тому же, по словам полевой мыши, он был ученый и очень богатый, а дом его был чуть ли не в двадцать раз больше, чем у мыши. Но он терпеть не мог солнца и ругал все цветы. Да и немудрено! Ведь он никогда в жизни не видел ни одного цветка.

Хозяйка-мышь заставила Дюймовочку спеть для дорогого гостя, и девочка волей-неволей спела две песенки, да так хорошо, что крот пришел в восхищение. Но он не сказал ни слова — он был такой важный, степенный, неразговорчивый…

Побывав в гостях у соседки, крот прорыл под землей длинный коридор от своего дома до самой норки полевой мыши и пригласил старушку вместе с приемной дочкой прогуляться по этой подземной галерее.

Он взял в рот гнилушку — в темноте гнилушка светит не хуже свечки — и пошел вперед, освещая дорогу.

На полпути крот остановился и сказал:

— Здесь лежит какая-то птица. Но нам ее нечего бояться — она мертвая. Да вот можете сами поглядеть.

И крот стал тыкаться своим широким носом в потолок, пока не прорыл в нем дыру. Дневной свет проник в подземный ход, и Дюймовочка увидела мертвую ласточку.

Должно быть, бедная птичка погибла от холода. Ее крылья были крепко прижаты к телу, ножки и голова спрятаны в перышки.

Дюймовочке стало очень жалко ее. Она так любила этих веселых легкокрылых птичек — ведь они целое лето пели ей чудесные песни и учили ее петь. Но крот толкнул ласточку своими короткими лапами и проворчал:

— Что, небось притихла? Не свистишь больше? Вот то-то и есть!.. Да, не хотел бы я быть этакой пичужкой. Только и умеют носиться в воздухе да щебетать. А придет зима — что им делать? Помирай, и все тут. Нет уж, моим детям не придется пропадать зимой от голода и холода.

— Да, да, — сказала полевая мышь. — Какой прок от этого чириканья и щебета? Песнями сыт не будешь, чириканьем зимой не согреешься!

Дюймовочка молчала. Но когда крот и мышь повернулись к птице спиной, она нагнулась к ласточке, раздвинула перышки и поцеловала ее прямо в закрытые глаза.

“Может быть, это та самая ласточка, которая так чудесно пела летом, — подумала девочка. — Сколько радости принесла ты мне, милая ласточка!”

А крот тем временем снова заделал дыру в потолке. Потом, подобрав гнилушку, он проводил домой старуху мышь и Дюймовочку.

Ночью Дюймовочке не спалось. Она встала с постели, сплела из сухих былинок большой ковер и, пробравшись в подземную галерею, прикрыла им мертвую птичку. Потом она отыскала в кладовой у полевой мыши теплого пуху, сухого мха и устроила для ласточки что-то вроде гнездышка, чтобы ей не так жестко и холодно было лежать на мерзлой земле.

— Прощай, милая ласточка, — сказала Дюймовочка. — Прощай! Спасибо тебе за то, что ты пела мне свои чудесные песни летом, когда деревья были еще зеленые, а солнышко так славно грело.

И она прижалась головой к шелковистым перышкам на груди у птички.

И вдруг она услышала, что в груди у ласточки что-то мерно застучало: “Стук! Стук!” — сначала тихо, а потом громче и громче. Это забилось сердце ласточки. Ласточка была не мертвая — она только окоченела от холода, а теперь согрелась и ожила.

На зиму стаи ласточек всегда улетают в теплые края. Осень еще не успела сорвать с деревьев зеленый наряд, а крылатые путницы уже собираются в дальнюю дорогу. Если же какая-нибудь из них отстанет или- запоздает, колючий ветер мигом оледенит ее легкое тело. Она окоченеет, упадет на землю замертво, и ее занесет холодным снегом.

Так случилось и с этой ласточкой, которую отогрела Дюймовочка.

Когда девочка поняла, что птица жива, она и обрадовалась и испугалась. Еще бы не испугаться! Ведь рядом с ней ласточка казалась такой огромной птицей.

Но все-таки Дюймовочка собралась с духом, потеплее укрыла ласточку своим плетеным ковром, а потом сбегала домой, принесла листочек мяты, которым сама укрывалась вместо одеяла, и укутала им голову птицы.

На следующую ночь Дюймовочка опять потихоньку пробралась к ласточке. Птица уже совсем ожила, но была еще очень слаба и еле-еле открыла глаза, чтобы посмотреть на девочку.

Дюймовочка стояла перед нею с куском гнилушки в руках — другого фонаря у нее не было.

— Спасибо тебе, милая крошка! — сказала больная ласточка. — Я так хорошо согрелась! Скоро я совсем поправлюсь и опять вылечу на солнышко.

— Ах, — сказала Дюймовочка, — теперь так холодно, идет снег! Останься лучше в своей теплой постельке, а я буду ухаживать за тобой.

И она принесла ласточке ячменных зернышек и воды в цветочном лепестке. Ласточка попила, поела, а потом рассказала девочке, как она поранила себе крыло о терновый куст и не могла улететь вместе с другими ласточками в теплые края. Пришла зима, стало очень холодно, и она упала на землю… Больше уже ласточка ничего не помнила. Она даже не знала, как попала сюда, в это подземелье.

Всю зиму прожила ласточка в подземной галерее, а Дюймовочка ухаживала за ней, кормила и поила ее. Ни кроту, ни полевой мыши она не сказала об этом ни слова — ведь оба они совсем не любили птиц.

Когда настала весна и пригрело солнышко, Дюймовочка открыла то окошко, которое проделал в потолке крот, и теплый солнечный луч проскользнул под землю.

Ласточка простилась с девочкой, расправила крылышки, но прежде, чем вылететь, спросила, не хочет ли Дюймовочка выбраться вместе с ней на волю. Пусть сядет к ней на спину, и они полетят в зеленый лес.

Но Дюймовочке было жалко бросить старую полевую мышь — она знала, что старушке будет очень скучно без нее.

— Нет, мне нельзя! — сказала она, вздыхая.

— Ну что ж, прощай! Прощай, милая девочка! — прощебетала ласточка.

Дюймовочка долго глядела ей вслед, и слезы капали у нее из глаз — ей тоже хотелось на простор да и грустно было расставаться с ласточкой.

-Тви-вить, тви-вить! — крикнула в последний раз ласточка и скрылась в зеленом лесу.

А Дюймовочка осталась в мышиной норе.

С каждым днем ей жилось все хуже, все скучнее. Старая мышь не позволяла ей уходить далеко от дома, а поле вокруг норки заросло высокими толстыми колосьями и казалось Дюймовочке дремучим лесом.

И вот однажды старуха мышь сказала Дюймовочке:

— Наш сосед, старый крот, приходил свататься к тебе. Теперь тебе нужно готовить приданое. Ты выходишь замуж за важную особу, и надо, чтоб у тебя всего было вдоволь.

И Дюймовочке пришлось по целым дням прясть пряжу.

Старуха мышь наняла четырех пауков. Они днем и ночью сидели по углам мышиной норки и втихомолку делали свое дело — ткали разные ткани и плели кружева из самой тонкой паутины.

А слепой крот приходил каждый вечер в гости и болтал о том, что скоро лету будет конец, солнце перестанет палить землю и она снова сделается мягкой и рыхлой. Вот тогда-то они и сыграют свадьбу. Но Дюймовочка все грустила и плакала: она совсем не хотела выходить замуж, да еще за толстого слепого крота.

Каждое утро, на восходе солнца, и каждый вечер, на закате, Дюймовочка выходила за порог мышиной норки. Иногда веселый ветерок раздвигал верхушки колосьев, и девочке удавалось увидеть кусочек голубого неба.

“Как светло, как хорошо тут на воле!” — думала Дюймовочка и все вспоминала о ласточке. Ей очень хотелось бы повидаться с птичкой, но ласточка не показывалась над полем. Должно быть, она вилась и носилась далеко-далеко там, в зеленом лесу над голубой рекой…

И вот наступила осень. Приданое для Дюймовочки было готово.

— Через четыре недели твоя свадьба! — сказала Дюймовочке полевая мышь.

Но Дюймовочка заплакала и ответила, что не хочет выходить замуж за скучного крота.

Старуха мышь рассердилась.

— Пустяки! — сказала она. — Не упрямься, а не то попробуешь моих зубов. Чем тебе крот не муж? Одна шуба чего стоит! У самого короля нет такой шубы! Да и в погребах у него не пусто. Благодари судьбу за такого мужа!

Наконец настал день свадьбы, и крот пришел за своей невестой. Значит, ей все-таки придется идти с ним в его темную нору, жить там, глубоко-глубоко под землей, и никогда не видеть ни белого света, ни ясного солнышка — ведь крот их терпеть не может?! А бедной Дюймовочке было так тяжело распроститься навсегда с высоким небом и красным солнышком! У полевой мыши она могла хоть издали, с порога норки, любоваться ими.

И вот она вышла взглянуть на белый свет в последний раз. Хлеб был уже убран с поля, и опять из земли торчали одни голые, засохшие стебли. Девочка отошла подальше от мышиной норки и протянула к солнцу руки:

— Прощай, солнышко, прощай! Потом она увидела маленький красный цветочек, обняла его и сказала:

— Милый цветочек, если увидишь ласточку, передай ей поклон от Дюймовочки.

— Тви-вить, тви-вить! — вдруг раздалось у нее над головой.

Дюймовочка подняла голову и увидела ласточку, которая пролетала над полем. Ласточка тоже увидела девочку и очень обрадовалась. Она опустилась на землю, и Дюймовочка, плача, рассказала своей подруге, как ей не хочется выходить замуж за старого угрюмого крота и жить с ним глубоко под землей, куда никогда не заглядывает солнце.

— Уже наступает холодная зима, — сказала ласточка, — и я улетаю далеко-далеко, в дальние страны. Хочешь лететь со мной? Садись ко мне на спину, только привяжи себя покрепче поясом, и мы улетим с тобой от гадкого крота, улетим далеко, за синие моря, в теплые края, где солнышко светит ярче, где стоит вечное лето и всегда цветут цветы. Полетим со мной, милая крошка! Ты ведь спасла мне жизнь, когда я замерзала в темной холодной яме.

— Да, да, я полечу с тобой! — сказала Дюймовочка. Она села ласточке на спину и крепко привязала себя поясом к самому большому и крепкому перу.

Ласточка стрелой взвилась к небу и полетела над темными лесами, над синими морями и высокими горами, покрытыми снегом. Тут было очень холодно, и Дюймовочка вся зарылась в теплые перья ласточки и высунула только голову, чтобы любоваться прекрасными местами, над которыми они пролетали.

Вот наконец и теплые края! Солнце сияло тут гораздо ярче, чем у нас, небо было выше, а вдоль изгородей вился кудрявый зеленый виноград. В рощах поспевали апельсины и лимоны, а по дорожкам бегали веселые дети и ловили больших пестрых бабочек.

Но ласточка летела дальше и дальше. На берегу прозрачного голубого озера посреди раскидистых деревьев стоял старинный белый мраморный дворец. Виноградные лозы обвивали его высокие колонны, а наверху, под крышей, лепились птичьи гнезда. В одном из них и жила ласточка.

— Вот мой дом! — сказала она. — А ты выбери себе самый красивый цветок. Я посажу тебя в его чашечку, и ты отлично заживешь.

Дюймовочка обрадовалась и от радости захлопала в ладоши.

Внизу, в траве, лежали куски белого мрамора — это свалилась верхушка одной колонны и разбилась на три части. Между мраморными обломками росли крупные белые как снег цветы.

Ласточка спустилась и посадила девочку на широкий лепесток. Но что за чудо? В чашечке цветка оказался маленький человечек, такой светлый и прозрачный, словно он был из хрусталя или утренней росы. За плечами у него дрожали легкие крылышки, на голове блестела маленькая золотая корона, а ростом он был не больше нашей Дюймовочки. Это был король эльфов.

Когда ласточка подлетела к цветку, эльф не на шутку перепугался. Ведь он был такой маленький, а ласточка такая большая!

Зато как же он обрадовался, когда ласточка улетела, оставив в цветке Дюймовочку! Никогда еще он не видал такой красивой девочки одного с ним роста. Он низко поклонился ей и спросил, как ее зовут.

— Дюймовочка! — ответила девочка.

— Милая Дюймовочка, — сказал эльф, — согласна ли ты быть моей женой, королевой цветов?

Дюймовочка поглядела на красивого эльфа. Ах, он был совсем не похож на глупого, грязного сынка старой жабы и на слепого крота в бархатной шубе! И она сразу согласилась.

Тогда из каждого цветка, перегоняя друг друга, вылетели эльфы. Они окружили Дюймовочку и одарили ее чудесными подарками.

Но больше всех других подарков понравились Дюймовочке крылья — пара прозрачных легких крылышек. совсем как у стрекозы. Их привязали Дюймовочке за плечами, и она тоже могла теперь летать с цветка на цветок. То-то была радость!

— Тебя больше не будут звать Дюймовочкой. У нас, эльфов, другие имена, -сказал Дюймовочке король. — Мы будем называть тебя Майей!

И все эльфы закружились над цветами в веселом хороводе, сами легкие и яркие, как лепестки цветов.

А ласточка сидела наверху в своем гнезде и распевала песни, как умела.

Всю теплую зиму эльфы плясали под ее песни. А когда в холодные страны пришла весна, ласточка стала собираться на родину.

— Прощай, прощай! — прощебетала она своей маленькой подруге и полетела через моря, горы и леса домой, в Данию.

Там у нее было маленькое гнездышко, как раз над окном человека, который умел хорошо рассказывать сказки. Ласточка рассказала ему про Дюймовочку, а от него и мы узнали эту историю.

Little Tiny or Thumbelina 
 

There was once a woman who wished very much to have a little child, but she could not obtain her wish. At last she went to a fairy, and said, “I should so very much like to have a little child; can you tell me where I can find one?”
“Oh, that can be easily managed,” said the fairy. “Here is a barleycorn of a different kind to those which grow in the farmer’s fields, and which the chickens eat; put it into a flower-pot, and see what will happen.”

“Thank you,” said the woman, and she gave the fairy twelve shillings, which was the price of the barleycorn. Then she went home and planted it, and immediately there grew up a large handsome flower, something like a tulip in appearance, but with its leaves tightly closed as if it were still a bud. “It is a beautiful flower,” said the woman, and she kissed the red and golden-colored leaves, and while she did so the flower opened, and she could see that it was a real tulip. Within the flower, upon the green velvet stamens, sat a very delicate and graceful little maiden. She was scarcely half as long as a thumb, and they gave her the name of “Thumbelina,” or Tiny, because she was so small. A walnut-shell, elegantly polished, served her for a cradle; her bed was formed of blue violet-leaves, with a rose-leaf for a counterpane. Here she slept at night, but during the day she amused herself on a table, where the woman had placed a plateful of water. Round this plate were wreaths of flowers with their stems in the water, and upon it floated a large tulip-leaf, which served Tiny for a boat. Here the little maiden sat and rowed herself from side to side, with two oars made of white horse-hair. It really was a very pretty sight. Tiny could, also, sing so softly and sweetly that nothing like her singing had ever before been heard. One night, while she lay in her pretty bed, a large, ugly, wet toad crept through a broken pane of glass in the window, and leaped right upon the table where Tiny lay sleeping under her rose-leaf quilt. “What a pretty little wife this would make for my son,” said the toad, and she took up the walnut-shell in which little Tiny lay asleep, and jumped through the window with it into the garden.

In the swampy margin of a broad stream in the garden lived the toad, with her son. He was uglier even than his mother, and when he saw the pretty little maiden in her elegant bed, he could only cry, “Croak, croak, croak.”

“Don’t speak so loud, or she will wake,” said the toad, “and then she might run away, for she is as light as swan’s down. We will place her on one of the water-lily leaves out in the stream; it will be like an island to her, she is so light and small, and then she cannot escape; and, while she is away, we will make haste and prepare the state-room under the marsh, in which you are to live when you are married.”

Far out in the stream grew a number of water-lilies, with broad green leaves, which seemed to float on the top of the water. The largest of these leaves appeared farther off than the rest, and the old toad swam out to it with the walnut-shell, in which little Tiny lay still asleep. The tiny little creature woke very early in the morning, and began to cry bitterly when she found where she was, for she could see nothing but water on every side of the large green leaf, and no way of reaching the land. Meanwhile the old toad was very busy under the marsh, decking her room with rushes and wild yellow flowers, to make it look pretty for her new daughter-in-law. Then she swam out with her ugly son to the leaf on which she had placed poor little Tiny. She wanted to fetch the pretty bed, that she might put it in the bridal chamber to be ready for her. The old toad bowed low to her in the water, and said, “Here is my son, he will be your husband, and you will live happily in the marsh by the stream.”

“Croak, croak, croak,” was all her son could say for himself; so the toad took up the elegant little bed, and swam away with it, leaving Tiny all alone on the green leaf, where she sat and wept. She could not bear to think of living with the old toad, and having her ugly son for a husband. The little fishes, who swam about in the water beneath, had seen the toad, and heard what she said, so they lifted their heads above the water to look at the little maiden. As soon as they caught sight of her, they saw she was very pretty, and it made them very sorry to think that she must go and live with the ugly toads. “No, it must never be!” so they assembled together in the water, round the green stalk which held the leaf on which the little maiden stood, and gnawed it away at the root with their teeth. Then the leaf floated down the stream, carrying Tiny far away out of reach of land.

Tiny sailed past many towns, and the little birds in the bushes saw her, and sang, “What a lovely little creature;” so the leaf swam away with her farther and farther, till it brought her to other lands. A graceful little white butterfly constantly fluttered round her, and at last alighted on the leaf. Tiny pleased him, and she was glad of it, for now the toad could not possibly reach her, and the country through which she sailed was beautiful, and the sun shone upon the water, till it glittered like liquid gold. She took off her girdle and tied one end of it round the butterfly, and the other end of the ribbon she fastened to the leaf, which now glided on much faster than ever, taking little Tiny with it as she stood. Presently a large cockchafer flew by; the moment he caught sight of her, he seized her round her delicate waist with his claws, and flew with her into a tree. The green leaf floated away on the brook, and the butterfly flew with it, for he was fastened to it, and could not get away.

Oh, how frightened little Tiny felt when the cockchafer flew with her to the tree! But especially was she sorry for the beautiful white butterfly which she had fastened to the leaf, for if he could not free himself he would die of hunger. But the cockchafer did not trouble himself at all about the matter. He seated himself by her side on a large green leaf, gave her some honey from the flowers to eat, and told her she was very pretty, though not in the least like a cockchafer. After a time, all the cockchafers turned up their feelers, and said, “She has only two legs! how ugly that looks.” “She has no feelers,” said another. “Her waist is quite slim. Pooh! she is like a human being.”

“Oh! she is ugly,” said all the lady cockchafers, although Tiny was very pretty. Then the cockchafer who had run away with her, believed all the others when they said she was ugly, and would have nothing more to say to her, and told her she might go where she liked. Then he flew down with her from the tree, and placed her on a daisy, and she wept at the thought that she was so ugly that even the cockchafers would have nothing to say to her. And all the while she was really the loveliest creature that one could imagine, and as tender and delicate as a beautiful rose-leaf. During the whole summer poor little Tiny lived quite alone in the wide forest. She wove herself a bed with blades of grass, and hung it up under a broad leaf, to protect herself from the rain. She sucked the honey from the flowers for food, and drank the dew from their leaves every morning. So passed away the summer and the autumn, and then came the winter,— the long, cold winter. All the birds who had sung to her so sweetly were flown away, and the trees and the flowers had withered. The large clover leaf under the shelter of which she had lived, was now rolled together and shrivelled up, nothing remained but a yellow withered stalk. She felt dreadfully cold, for her clothes were torn, and she was herself so frail and delicate, that poor little Tiny was nearly frozen to death. It began to snow too; and the snow-flakes, as they fell upon her, were like a whole shovelful falling upon one of us, for we are tall, but she was only an inch high. Then she wrapped herself up in a dry leaf, but it cracked in the middle and could not keep her warm, and she shivered with cold. Near the wood in which she had been living lay a corn-field, but the corn had been cut a long time; nothing remained but the bare dry stubble standing up out of the frozen ground. It was to her like struggling through a large wood. Oh! how she shivered with the cold. She came at last to the door of a field-mouse, who had a little den under the corn-stubble. There dwelt the field-mouse in warmth and comfort, with a whole roomful of corn, a kitchen, and a beautiful dining room. Poor little Tiny stood before the door just like a little beggar-girl, and begged for a small piece of barley-corn, for she had been without a morsel to eat for two days.

“You poor little creature,” said the field-mouse, who was really a good old field-mouse, “come into my warm room and dine with me.” She was very pleased with Tiny, so she said, “You are quite welcome to stay with me all the winter, if you like; but you must keep my rooms clean and neat, and tell me stories, for I shall like to hear them very much.” And Tiny did all the field-mouse asked her, and found herself very comfortable.

“We shall have a visitor soon,” said the field-mouse one day; “my neighbor pays me a visit once a week. He is better off than I am; he has large rooms, and wears a beautiful black velvet coat. If you could only have him for a husband, you would be well provided for indeed. But he is blind, so you must tell him some of your prettiest stories.”

But Tiny did not feel at all interested about this neighbor, for he was a mole. However, he came and paid his visit dressed in his black velvet coat.

“He is very rich and learned, and his house is twenty times larger than mine,” said the field-mouse.

He was rich and learned, no doubt, but he always spoke slightingly of the sun and the pretty flowers, because he had never seen them. Tiny was obliged to sing to him, “Lady-bird, lady-bird, fly away home,” and many other pretty songs. And the mole fell in love with her because she had such a sweet voice; but he said nothing yet, for he was very cautious. A short time before, the mole had dug a long passage under the earth, which led from the dwelling of the field-mouse to his own, and here she had permission to walk with Tiny whenever she liked. But he warned them not to be alarmed at the sight of a dead bird which lay in the passage. It was a perfect bird, with a beak and feathers, and could not have been dead long, and was lying just where the mole had made his passage. The mole took a piece of phosphorescent wood in his mouth, and it glittered like fire in the dark; then he went before them to light them through the long, dark passage. When they came to the spot where lay the dead bird, the mole pushed his broad nose through the ceiling, the earth gave way, so that there was a large hole, and the daylight shone into the passage. In the middle of the floor lay a dead swallow, his beautiful wings pulled close to his sides, his feet and his head drawn up under his feathers; the poor bird had evidently died of the cold. It made little Tiny very sad to see it, she did so love the little birds; all the summer they had sung and twittered for her so beautifully. But the mole pushed it aside with his crooked legs, and said, “He will sing no more now. How miserable it must be to be born a little bird! I am thankful that none of my children will ever be birds, for they can do nothing but cry, ‘Tweet, tweet,’ and always die of hunger in the winter.”

“Yes, you may well say that, as a clever man!” exclaimed the field-mouse, “What is the use of his twittering, for when winter comes he must either starve or be frozen to death. Still birds are very high bred.”

Tiny said nothing; but when the two others had turned their backs on the bird, she stooped down and stroked aside the soft feathers which covered the head, and kissed the closed eyelids. “Perhaps this was the one who sang to me so sweetly in the summer,” she said; “and how much pleasure it gave me, you dear, pretty bird.”

The mole now stopped up the hole through which the daylight shone, and then accompanied the lady home. But during the night Tiny could not sleep; so she got out of bed and wove a large, beautiful carpet of hay; then she carried it to the dead bird, and spread it over him; with some down from the flowers which she had found in the field-mouse’s room. It was as soft as wool, and she spread some of it on each side of the bird, so that he might lie warmly in the cold earth. “Farewell, you pretty little bird,” said she, “farewell; thank you for your delightful singing during the summer, when all the trees were green, and the warm sun shone upon us.” Then she laid her head on the bird’s breast, but she was alarmed immediately, for it seemed as if something inside the bird went “thump, thump.” It was the bird’s heart; he was not really dead, only benumbed with the cold, and the warmth had restored him to life. In autumn, all the swallows fly away into warm countries, but if one happens to linger, the cold seizes it, it becomes frozen, and falls down as if dead; it remains where it fell, and the cold snow covers it. Tiny trembled very much; she was quite frightened, for the bird was large, a great deal larger than herself,—she was only an inch high. But she took courage, laid the wool more thickly over the poor swallow, and then took a leaf which she had used for her own counterpane, and laid it over the head of the poor bird. The next morning she again stole out to see him. He was alive but very weak; he could only open his eyes for a moment to look at Tiny, who stood by holding a piece of decayed wood in her hand, for she had no other lantern. “Thank you, pretty little maiden,” said the sick swallow; “I have been so nicely warmed, that I shall soon regain my strength, and be able to fly about again in the warm sunshine.”

“Oh,” said she, “it is cold out of doors now; it snows and freezes. Stay in your warm bed; I will take care of you.”

Then she brought the swallow some water in a flower-leaf, and after he had drank, he told her that he had wounded one of his wings in a thorn-bush, and could not fly as fast as the others, who were soon far away on their journey to warm countries. Then at last he had fallen to the earth, and could remember no more, nor how he came to be where she had found him. The whole winter the swallow remained underground, and Tiny nursed him with care and love. Neither the mole nor the field-mouse knew anything about it, for they did not like swallows. Very soon the spring time came, and the sun warmed the earth. Then the swallow bade farewell to Tiny, and she opened the hole in the ceiling which the mole had made. The sun shone in upon them so beautifully, that the swallow asked her if she would go with him; she could sit on his back, he said, and he would fly away with her into the green woods. But Tiny knew it would make the field-mouse very grieved if she left her in that manner, so she said, “No, I cannot.”

“Farewell, then, farewell, you good, pretty little maiden,” said the swallow; and he flew out into the sunshine.

Tiny looked after him, and the tears rose in her eyes. She was very fond of the poor swallow.

“Tweet, tweet,” sang the bird, as he flew out into the green woods, and Tiny felt very sad. She was not allowed to go out into the warm sunshine. The corn which had been sown in the field over the house of the field-mouse had grown up high into the air, and formed a thick wood to Tiny, who was only an inch in height.

“You are going to be married, Tiny,” said the field-mouse. “My neighbor has asked for you. What good fortune for a poor child like you. Now we will prepare your wedding clothes. They must be both woollen and linen. Nothing must be wanting when you are the mole’s wife.”

Tiny had to turn the spindle, and the field-mouse hired four spiders, who were to weave day and night. Every evening the mole visited her, and was continually speaking of the time when the summer would be over. Then he would keep his wedding-day with Tiny; but now the heat of the sun was so great that it burned the earth, and made it quite hard, like a stone. As soon, as the summer was over, the wedding should take place. But Tiny was not at all pleased; for she did not like the tiresome mole. Every morning when the sun rose, and every evening when it went down, she would creep out at the door, and as the wind blew aside the ears of corn, so that she could see the blue sky, she thought how beautiful and bright it seemed out there, and wished so much to see her dear swallow again. But he never returned; for by this time he had flown far away into the lovely green forest.

When autumn arrived, Tiny had her outfit quite ready; and the field-mouse said to her, “In four weeks the wedding must take place.”

Then Tiny wept, and said she would not marry the disagreeable mole.

“Nonsense,” replied the field-mouse. “Now don’t be obstinate, or I shall bite you with my white teeth. He is a very handsome mole; the queen herself does not wear more beautiful velvets and furs. His kitchen and cellars are quite full. You ought to be very thankful for such good fortune.”

So the wedding-day was fixed, on which the mole was to fetch Tiny away to live with him, deep under the earth, and never again to see the warm sun, because he did not like it. The poor child was very unhappy at the thought of saying farewell to the beautiful sun, and as the field-mouse had given her permission to stand at the door, she went to look at it once more.

“Farewell bright sun,” she cried, stretching out her arm towards it; and then she walked a short distance from the house; for the corn had been cut, and only the dry stubble remained in the fields. “Farewell, farewell,” she repeated, twining her arm round a little red flower that grew just by her side. “Greet the little swallow from me, if you should see him again.”

“Tweet, tweet,” sounded over her head suddenly. She looked up, and there was the swallow himself flying close by. As soon as he spied Tiny, he was delighted; and then she told him how unwilling she felt to marry the ugly mole, and to live always beneath the earth, and never to see the bright sun any more. And as she told him she wept.

“Cold winter is coming,” said the swallow, “and I am going to fly away into warmer countries. Will you go with me? You can sit on my back, and fasten yourself on with your sash. Then we can fly away from the ugly mole and his gloomy rooms,—far away, over the mountains, into warmer countries, where the sun shines more brightly—than here; where it is always summer, and the flowers bloom in greater beauty. Fly now with me, dear little Tiny; you saved my life when I lay frozen in that dark passage.”

“Yes, I will go with you,” said Tiny; and she seated herself on the bird’s back, with her feet on his outstretched wings, and tied her girdle to one of his strongest feathers.

Then the swallow rose in the air, and flew over forest and over sea, high above the highest mountains, covered with eternal snow. Tiny would have been frozen in the cold air, but she crept under the bird’s warm feathers, keeping her little head uncovered, so that she might admire the beautiful lands over which they passed. At length they reached the warm countries, where the sun shines brightly, and the sky seems so much higher above the earth. Here, on the hedges, and by the wayside, grew purple, green, and white grapes; lemons and oranges hung from trees in the woods; and the air was fragrant with myrtles and orange blossoms. Beautiful children ran along the country lanes, playing with large gay butterflies; and as the swallow flew farther and farther, every place appeared still more lovely.

At last they came to a blue lake, and by the side of it, shaded by trees of the deepest green, stood a palace of dazzling white marble, built in the olden times. Vines clustered round its lofty pillars, and at the top were many swallows’ nests, and one of these was the home of the swallow who carried Tiny.

“This is my house,” said the swallow; “but it would not do for you to live there—you would not be comfortable. You must choose for yourself one of those lovely flowers, and I will put you down upon it, and then you shall have everything that you can wish to make you happy.”

“That will be delightful,” she said, and clapped her little hands for joy.

A large marble pillar lay on the ground, which, in falling, had been broken into three pieces. Between these pieces grew the most beautiful large white flowers; so the swallow flew down with Tiny, and placed her on one of the broad leaves. But how surprised she was to see in the middle of the flower, a tiny little man, as white and transparent as if he had been made of crystal! He had a gold crown on his head, and delicate wings at his shoulders, and was not much larger than Tiny herself. He was the angel of the flower; for a tiny man and a tiny woman dwell in every flower; and this was the king of them all.

“Oh, how beautiful he is!” whispered Tiny to the swallow.

The little prince was at first quite frightened at the bird, who was like a giant, compared to such a delicate little creature as himself; but when he saw Tiny, he was delighted, and thought her the prettiest little maiden he had ever seen. He took the gold crown from his head, and placed it on hers, and asked her name, and if she would be his wife, and queen over all the flowers.

This certainly was a very different sort of husband to the son of a toad, or the mole, with my black velvet and fur; so she said, “Yes,” to the handsome prince. Then all the flowers opened, and out of each came a little lady or a tiny lord, all so pretty it was quite a pleasure to look at them. Each of them brought Tiny a present; but the best gift was a pair of beautiful wings, which had belonged to a large white fly and they fastened them to Tiny’s shoulders, so that she might fly from flower to flower. Then there was much rejoicing, and the little swallow who sat above them, in his nest, was asked to sing a wedding song, which he did as well as he could; but in his heart he felt sad for he was very fond of Tiny, and would have liked never to part from her again.

“You must not be called Tiny any more,” said the spirit of the flowers to her. “It is an ugly name, and you are so very pretty. We will call you Maia.”

“Farewell, farewell,” said the swallow, with a heavy heart as he left the warm countries to fly back into Denmark. There he had a nest over the window of a house in which dwelt the writer of fairy tales. The swallow sang, “Tweet, tweet,” and from his song came the whole story.

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