But Thumbelina remembered how kind the field-mouse had been to her when she was cold and hungry, and she would not leave her.
“Farewell! farewell! then, little maiden,” twittered the swallow as he flew out and up, up into the sunshine.
Thumbelina loved the swallow dearly. Her eyes were full of tears as she watched the bird disappearing till he was only a tiny speck of black.
And now sad days came to little Thumbelina.
The golden corn was once more waving in the sunshine above the house of the field-mouse, but Thumbelina must not go out lest she lose herself among the corn.
Not go out in the bright sunshine! Oh, poor little Thumbelina!
“You must get your wedding clothes ready this summer,” said the field-mouse. “You must be well provided with linen and worsted. My neighbor the mole will wish a well-dressed bride.”
The mole had said he wished to marry little Thumbelina before the cold winter came again.
So Thumbelina sat at the spinning-wheel through the long summer days, spinning and weaving with four little spiders to help her.