one of the broad leaves. But there, to her astonishment, she found
a tiny little man sitting in the middle of the flower, as white and
transparent as if he were made of glass; he had the prettiest golden
crown on his head, and the most beautiful wings on his shoulders; he
himself was no bigger than Thumbelina. He was the spirit of the flower.
In each blossom there dwelt a tiny man or woman; but this one was the
King over the others.

'How handsome he is!' whispered Thumbelina to the swallow.

The little Prince was very much frightened at the swallow, for in
comparison with one so tiny as himself he seemed a giant. But when he
saw Thumbelina, he was delighted, for she was the most beautiful girl he
had ever seen. So he took his golden crown from off his head and put it
on hers, asking her her name, and if she would be his wife, and then
she would be Queen of all the flowers. Yes! he was a different kind of
husband to the son of the toad and the mole with the black-velvet coat.
So she said 'Yes' to the noble Prince. And out of each flower came a
lady and gentleman, each so tiny and pretty that it was a pleasure to
see them. Each brought Thumbelina a present, but the best of all was a
beautiful pair of wings which were fastened on to her back, and now she
too could fly from flower to flower. They all wished her joy, and the
swallow sat above in his nest and sang the wedding march, and that he
did as well as he could; but he was sad, because he was very fond of
Thumbelina and did not want to be separated from her.

'You shall not be called Thumbelina!' said the spirit of the flower to
her; 'that is an ugly name, and you are much too pretty for that. We
will call you May Blossom.'

'Farewell, farewell!' said the little swallow with a heavy heart, and
flew away to farther lands, far, far away, right back to Denmark. There
he had a little nest above a window, where his wife lived, who can tell
fairy-stories. 'Tweet, tweet!' he sang to her. And that is the way we
learnt the whole story.

THE NIGHTINGALE

In China, as I daresay you know, the Emperor is a Chinaman, and all his
courtiers are also Chinamen. The story I am going to tell you happened
many years ago, but it is worth while for you to listen to it, before it
is forgotten.

The Emperor's Palace was the most splendid in the world, all made of
priceless porcelain, but so brittle and delicate that you had to take
great care how you touched it. In the garden