Hans Andersen's Fairy Tales

by H. C. Andersen

She brought the swallow water in a flower-petal and he drank, and then he told her how he had torn one of his wings in a thorn bush, and therefore could not fly fast enough to keep up with the other swallows who were all migrating to the warm countries. He had at last fallen to the earth, and more than that he could not remember; he did not at all know how he had got underground.

However, underground he remained all the winter long, and Tommelise was kind to him, and loved him dearly, but she never said a word about him either to the mole or the field-mouse, for she knew they could not endure the poor swallow.

As soon as the spring came and the sun’s warmth had penetrated the earth, the swallow said farewell to Tommelise, and she opened for him the covering of earth which the mole had thrown back before. The sun shone in upon them so deliciously, and the swallow asked whether she would not go with him; she might sit upon his back, and then they would fly together far out into the greenwood. But Tommelise knew it would vex the old field-mouse if she were to leave her.

‘No, I cannot, I must not go,’ said Tommelise.

‘Fare thee well, then, thou good and pretty maiden,’ said the swallow, and away he flew into the sunshine. Tommelise looked after him and the tears came into her eyes, for she loved the poor swallow so much.

‘Quivit, quivit,’ sang the bird, as he flew into the greenwood. And Tommelise was now sad indeed. She was not allowed to go out into the warm sunshine; the wheat that had been sown in the field above the field-mouse’s house grew up so high that it seemed a perfect forest to the poor little damsel who was only an inch in stature.

‘This summer you must work at getting your wedding clothes ready,’ said the field-mouse, for their neighbour, the blind dull mole in the black-velvet suit had now made his proposals in form to Tommelise. ‘You shall have worsted and linen in plenty; you shall be well provided with all manner of clothes and furniture before you become the mole’s wife.’ So Tommelise was obliged to work hard at the distaff, and the field-mouse hired four spiders to spin and weave night and day. Every evening came the mole, and always began to talk about the summer soon coming to an end, and that then, when the sun would no longer shine so warmly, scorching the earth till it was as dry as a stone, yes, then, his nuptials with Tommelise should take place. But this sort of conversation did not please her at all; she was thoroughly wearied of his dulness and his prating. Every morning when the sun rose, and every evening when it set, she used to steal out at the door, and when the wind blew the tops of the corn aside, so that she could see the blue sky through the opening, she thought how bright and beautiful it was out here, and wished most fervently to see the dear swallow once more; but he never came, he must have been flying far away in the beautiful greenwood.

Autumn came, and Tommelise’s wedding clothes were ready.

‘Four weeks more, and you shall be married!’ said the field-mouse. But Tommelise wept, and said she would not marry the dull mole.

‘Fiddlestick!’ exclaimed the field-mouse; ‘don’t be obstinate, child, or I shall bite thee with my white teeth! Is he not handsome, pray? Why, the Queen has not got such a black-velvet dress as he wears! And isn’t he rich? rich both in kitchens and cellars? Be thankful to get such a husband!’