made of crystal! He had a gold crown on his head, and
delicate wings at his shoulders, and was not much larger than was she
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 Thumbelina 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 Thumbelina 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 from the son of the
toad, or the mole with his 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 Thumbelina 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 Thumbelina'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
Thumbelina and would have liked never to part from her again.

"You must not be called Thumbelina any more," said the spirit of the
flowers to her. "It is an ugly name, and you are so very lovely. 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.

[Illustration]

SUNSHINE STORIES

"I AM going to tell a story," said the Wind.

"I beg your pardon," said the Rain, "but now it is my turn. Have you not
been howling round the corner this long time, as hard as ever you
could?"

"Is this the gratitude you owe me?" said the Wind; "I, who in honor of
you turn inside out--yes, even break--all the umbrellas, when the people
won't have anything to do with you."

"I will speak myself," said the Sunshine. "Silence!" and the Sunshine
said it wit