The Complete Fairy Tales & Other Stories
By Hans Christian Andersen - online book

Oxford Complete Illustrated Edition all his stories written between 1835 and 1872.

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34                              THUMBELINA
chafer who had carried her off thought so ; but when all the others declared she was ugly, he believed it at last, and would not have her at all—she might go whither she liked. Then they flew down with her from the tree, and set her upon a daisy, and she wept, because she was so ugly that the cockchafers would not have her ; and yet she was the loveliest little being one could imagine, and as tender and delicate as a rose-leaf.
The whole summer through poor Thumbelina lived quite alone in the great wood. She wove herself a bed out of blades of grass, and hung it up under a large burdock leaf, so that she was protected from the rain ; she plucked the honey out of the flowers for food, and drank of the dew which stood every morning upon the leaves. Thus summer and autumn passed away ; but now came winter, the cold long winter. All the birds who had sung so sweetly to her flew away; trees and flowers shed their leaves ; the great burdock leaf under which she had lived shrivelled up, and there remained nothing of it but a yellow withered stalk ; and she was dreadfully cold, for her clothes were torn, and she herself was so frail and delicate—poor little Thumbelina ! she was nearly frozen. It began to snow, and every snow-flake that fell upon her was like a whole shovel-full thrown upon one of us, for we are tall, and she was only an inch long. Then she wrapped herself in a dry leaf, but that would not warm her—she shivered with cold.
Close to the wood into which she had now come lay a great corn-field, but the corn was gone long ago ; only the naked dry stubble stood up out of the frozen ground. These were just like a great forest for her to wander through; and, oh ! how she trembled with cold. Then she arrived at the door of the Field Mouse. This mouse had a little hole under the stubble. There the Field Mouse lived, warm and comfortable, and had a whole room-full of corn— a glorious kitchen and larder. Poor Thumbelina stood at the door just like a poor beggar girl, and begged for a little bit of a barleycorn, for she had not had the smallest morsel to eat for the last two days.
'You poor little creature,' said the Field Mouse—for after all she was a good old Field Mouse—' come into my warm room and dine with me.'