The Vintage Audiobooks Podcast

Hans Christian Andersen - The Ugly Duckling and Thumbelina

July 09, 2023 Bob Neufeld Season 1 Episode 1
Hans Christian Andersen - The Ugly Duckling and Thumbelina
The Vintage Audiobooks Podcast
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The Vintage Audiobooks Podcast
Hans Christian Andersen - The Ugly Duckling and Thumbelina
Jul 09, 2023 Season 1 Episode 1
Bob Neufeld

From the great Danish master, Hans Christian Anderson, two of his most beloved tales.  The Ugly Duckling and Thumbelina.  Both characters make long, dangerous journeys to find perfect new homes and companions. 

Show Notes Transcript Chapter Markers

From the great Danish master, Hans Christian Anderson, two of his most beloved tales.  The Ugly Duckling and Thumbelina.  Both characters make long, dangerous journeys to find perfect new homes and companions. 

Speaker 1:

Good evening and welcome to sleep time, where you can fall asleep listening to classic stories, fairy tales, myths and other favorites told in a calm and gentle manner that will help you unwind after your long, hard day and drift into dreamland. I'm Bob Neffeld Tonight. Two fairy tales by the Danish master, hans Christian Andersen The ugly duckling and Sambalina. Before we begin, a couple of notes. You probably noticed that this is a brand new podcast, so I am doubly grateful to you for giving us a try. If you enjoy this episode, you can help others with similar interests find us by subscribing, rating and reviewing. It would be an enormous help at this critical stage. Very much appreciated If you would like to support the channel with some pocket money once or once in a while. You'll find a link to buy me a coffee in the notes below. That might also go to a hot cup of aubergine. Finally, please do not listen to this while you are driving or operating machinery. And now it's sleep time. So find your favorite safe place to sleep, get comfortable, relax your whole body into tow, take a few long, slow, deep breaths And fall asleep to Hans Christian Andersen, the ugly duckling.

Speaker 1:

It was lovely summer weather in the country. The golden corn, the green oats and the haystacks piled up in the meadows looked beautiful. The stork walking about on his long red legs chattered in the Egyptian language which she had learned from his mother. The corn fields and meadows were surrounded by large forests, in the midst of which were deep pools. It was indeed delightful to walk about in the country. In a sunny spot stood a pleasant old farmhouse, close by a deep river, and from the house down to the water side grew great burdock leaves so high that under the tallest of them a little child could stand upright. The spot was as wild as the center of a thick wood. In this snug retreat sat a duck on her nest watching for her young brood to hatch. She was beginning to get tired of her task, for the little ones were a long time coming out of their shells and she seldom had any visitors. The other ducks liked much better to swim about in the river and to climb the banks and sit under a burdock leaf to have a gossip with her At length.

Speaker 1:

One shell cracked manned, then another, and from each egg came a living creature that lifted its head and cried Peep, peep, quack, quack, said the mother, and then they all quacked as well as they could and looked about them on every side, at the large green leaves. Their mother allowed them to look as much as they liked, because green is good for the eyes. How large the world is, said the young ducks when they found how much more room they now had than while they were inside the egg shells. To you imagine, this is the whole world, asked the mother. Wait till you have seen the garden. It stretches far beyond that, to the Parsons field. I have never gone that far. Are you all out? She continued rising. No, i declare. The largest egg still lies there. I wonder how long this is till last. I am quite tired of it.

Speaker 1:

And she seated herself again on the nest. Well, how are you getting on, asked an old duck who paid her a visit. One egg is not hatched yet, said the duck, and will not break. But just look at all the others. Are they not the prettiest little ducklings you ever saw? They are the image of their father who is so unkind he never comes to see them. Let me see the egg that will not break, said the old duck. I have no doubt it is a turkey's egg. I was persuaded to hatch some once and after all my care and trouble with the young ones, they were afraid of the water. I quacked and clocked, all to no purpose. I could not get them to venture in. Let me look at that egg. Yes, that's a turkey's egg. Take my advice leave it where it is and teach the other children to swim. I think I will sit on it a little while longer, said the duck, as I have sat so long already. A few days more will be nothing, please yourself, said the old duck, and she went away At last. The large egg broke and a young one crept forth, crying beep, beep. It was very large and very ugly. The duck stared at it and exclaimed It is very large and not at all like the others. I wonder if it really is a turkey. We shall soon find out when we go to the water. It must go in if I have to push it myself.

Speaker 1:

The next day the weather was delightful. The sun shone brightly on the green bird-dog leaves, so the mother duck took her young brood down to the water and jumped in with a splash Quack, quack. She cried, and one after another, the little ducklings jumped in The water closed over their heads, but they came up again in an instant and swam about quite prettily with their legs, paddling under them, as easily as possible. The ugly duckling was also in the water swimming with them. Oh, said the mother, he is not a turkey. How well he uses his legs and how upright he holds himself. Well, he is my own child and he is not so very ugly after all, if you look at him properly. Quack, quack, come with me now I will take you into grand society. I'd introduce you to the farmyard, but you must keep close to me or you may be taught an upon and above all, beware of the cat.

Speaker 1:

When they reached the farmyard, there was a great disturbance. Two families were fighting over a kneel's head, which in the end was carried off by the cat. See, children, that is the way of the world, said the mother duck wetting her beak, for she would have liked the eels' head herself. Come now, use your legs and let me see how well you can behave. You must bow your heads prettily to that old duck, yonder. She is the highest born of them all and has Spanish blood. Therefore she is well off. See, she has a red flag tied to her leg, which is something very grand and a great honour for a duck. It shows that everyone is anxious not to lose her, as she can be recognized both by man and beast. Come now, don't turn your toes. A well-bred duckling spreads his feet wide apart, just like his father and mother, in this way. Now bend your neck and say quack.

Speaker 1:

The ducklings did as they were bid, but another duck stared and said Look, here comes another brood, as if there were not enough of us already. And what a strange-looking object that one is. We don't want him here. And then one flew out and bit him in the neck. Let him alone, said the mother. He is not doing any harm. Yes, but he is so big and ugly, said the spiteful duck, and therefore he must be turned out.

Speaker 1:

The others are very pretty children, said the old duck with the rag on her leg. Oh, but that one. I wish his mother could improve him a little. That is impossible, your grace, replied the mother. He is not pretty, but he has a very good disposition and swims as well or even better than the others. I think he will grow up pretty and perhaps be smaller. He has remained too long in the egg and therefore his figure is not properly formed. She stroked his neck and smoothed his feathers saying And it is a drake and therefore not of so much consequence I think he will grow up strong and able to take care of himself. The other ducklings are graceful enough, said the old duck. Now make yourself at home, and if you can find an eels head, you can bring it to me. So they made themselves comfortable.

Speaker 1:

But the poor duckling, who had crept out of his shell last of all and looked so ugly, was bitten and pushed and made fun of not only by the ducks but by all the poosers. He is too big, they all said. And that turkey cock, who had been born into the world with spurs and fancied himself really an emperor, puffed himself out like a vessel in full sail and flew at the duckling. It became quite red in the head with passion, so that the poor little thing did not know where to go and was quite miserable because he was so ugly and laughed at by the whole farmyard. So it went on day after day and got worse and worse.

Speaker 1:

The poor duckling was driven about by everyone. Even his brothers and sisters were unkind to him and would say Oh you ugly creature, i wish the cat would get you. His mother said she wished he had never been born. The ducks pecked him, the chickens beat him and the girl who fed the poultry kicked him. So at last he ran away, frightening the little birds in the hedge as he flew over the palings. They are afraid of me because I am ugly, he said. So he closed his eyes and flew still farther until he came out on a large moor inhabited by wild ducks. Here he remained the whole night, feeling very tired and very sorrowful.

Speaker 1:

In the morning, when the Wild Ducks arose in the air, they stared at their new comrade. What sort of a duck are you? they all said, coming round him. He bowed to them and was as polite as he could be, but he did not reply to their question. "'you are exceedingly ugly' said the Wild Ducks. But that will not matter if you do not want to marry one of our family. Poor thing he had no thoughts of marriage. All he wanted was permission to lie among the rushes and drink some of the water on the moor'.

Speaker 1:

After he had been on the moor two days, there came two wild geese, or rather gozzlings, for they had not been out of the egg long and were very saucy. "'lesson friend', said one of them to the duckling. "'you are so ugly, we like you very well. Come with us and become a bird of passage. Not far from here is another moor in which there are some pretty wild geese, all unmarried. It's a chance for you to get a wife. You may be as ugly as you are'".

Speaker 1:

Pop pop sounded in the air and the two wild geese fell dead among the rushes. Pop pop echoed far and wide in the distance and whole flocks of wild geese rose up from the rushes. The sound continued from every direction, for the sportsmen surrounded the moor, and some were even seated on branches of trees overlooking the rushes. The blue smoke from the guns rose like clouds over the dark trees and as it floated away across the water, a number of sporting dogs battled in among the rushes, which bent beneath them wherever they went. How they terrified the poor duckling. He turned away his head to hide it under his wing and at the same moment a large, terrible dog passed quite near him. His jaws were open, his tongue hung from his mouth and his eyes glared fearsomely. He thrust his nose close to the duckling, showing his sharp teeth, and then, splash, splash. He went into the water without touching him. Oh, sighed the duckling. How thankful I am for being so ugly, even a dog will not bite me. He lay quite still while the shot rattled through the rushes and gun after gun was fired over him.

Speaker 1:

It was late in the day before all became quiet, but even then the poor young thing did not dare to move. He waited quietly for several hours and then, after looking carefully around him, he sent away from the moor as fast as he could. He ran overfield and meadow till a storm arose, and he could hardly struggle against it. Towards evening he reached a poor little cottage that seemed ready to fall and only remained standing because it could not decide on which side to fall first. The storm continued so violently that the duckling could go no further. He sat down by the cottage and then he noticed that the door was not quite closed, in consequence of one of the hinges having given way. There was therefore a narrow opening near the bottom, large enough for him to slip through, which he did very quietly and got shelter for the night.

Speaker 1:

A woman, a tomcat and a hen lived in this cottage. The tomcat, whom the mistress called her, my little son, was a great favorite. He could raise his back and purr, and could even throw out sparks from his fur if it were stroked the wrong way. The hen had very short legs, so she was called Chicky Short Legs. She laid good eggs and her mistress loved her as if she had been her own child. In the morning the strange visitor was discovered and the tomcat began to purr and the hen took luck. "'what is that noise about', said the old woman looking round the room, but her sight was not very good. When she saw the duckling she thought it must be a fat duck that had strayed from home. "'oh, what a prize', she exclaimed. I hope it is not a drink, for then I shall have some duck's eggs. I must wait and see' So the duckling was allowed to remain on trial for three weeks. There were no eggs. Now the tomcat was the master of the house and the hen was mistress, and they always said We and the world, for they believed themselves to be half the world, and the better half too.

Speaker 1:

The duckling thought that others might hold a different opinion on the subject, but the hen would not listen to such doubts. "'can you lay eggs', she asked. "'no, then have the goodness to hold your tongue'. "'can you raise your back or purr or throw out sparks', said the tomcat "'No, then you have no right to express an opinion when sensible people are speaking'".

Speaker 1:

So the duckling sat in a corner, feeling very low-spirited, till the sunshine and the fresh air came into the room through the open door, and then he began to feel such a great longing for a swim in the water that he could not help telling the hen. "'what an absurd idea', said the hen. "'you have nothing else to do. Therefore you have foolish fancies. If you could purr or lay eggs, they would pass away'. "'but it is so delightful to swim about on the water', said the duckling, and so refreshing to feel it close over your head while you dive down to the bottom.

Speaker 1:

"'telightful indeed', said the hen. "'why you must be crazy? Ask the cat. He is the cleverest animal I know. Ask him how he would like to swim about on the water or to dive under it. For I will not speak of my own opinion. Ask our mistress, the old woman. There is no one in the world more clever than she is. Do you think she would like to swear more to let the water close over her head'.

Speaker 1:

"'you don't understand me', said the duckling. "'we don't understand you'. "'who can't understand you, i wonder? Do you consider yourself more clever than the cat or the old woman' I will say nothing of myself. Don't imagine such an uncensed child. And thank you for your good fortune that you have been received here. Are you not in a warm room in society from which you may learn something? But you are a chatterer and your company is not very agreeable. Leave me, i speak only for your own good. I may tell you unpleasant truths, but that is proof of my friendship. I advise you, therefore, to lay eggs and learn to purr as quickly as possible. I believe I must go out into the world again', said the duckling. "'yes do' said the hen. So the duckling left the cottage and soon found a water on which he could swim and dive, but was avoided by all the other animals because of his ugly appearance.

Speaker 1:

Autumn came and the leaves in the forest turned to orange and gold. Then, as winter approached, the wind caught the mess. They fell and whirled them in the cold air. The clouds heavy with hail and snowflakes hung low in the sky and the raven stood on the ferns crying "'Ca ca' and made one shiver with cold to look at him. All this was very sad for the poor little duckling.

Speaker 1:

One evening, just as the sun set, amid radiant clouds, there came a large flock of beautiful birds out of the bushes. The duckling had never seen anything like them. They were swans, and they curbed their graceful necks while their soft plumage shone with dazzling whiteness. They uttered a singular cry as they spread their glorious wings and flew away from these cold regions to warmer countries across the sea. As they mounted higher and higher in the air, the ugly little duckling felt quite a strange sensation as he watched them. He whirled himself in the water like a wheel, stretched out his neck towards them and uttered a cry so strange that he frightened himself. Could he ever forget those beautiful, happy birds? And when at last they were out of his sight, he dived under the water and rose again almost beside himself with excitement. He knew not the names of these birds nor where they had flown, but he felt towards them as he had never felt for any other bird in the world. He was not envious of these beautiful creatures, but wished to be as lovely as they. Poor ugly creature. How gladly he would have lived even with the ducks, had they only given him encouragement.

Speaker 1:

The winter grew colder and colder. He was obliged to swim about on the water to keep it from freezing. But every night the space on which he swam became smaller and smaller At length. It froze so hard that the ice in the water crackled as he moved and the duckling had to paddle with his legs as well as he could to keep the space from closing. He became exhausted at last and lay still and helpless, frozen fast in the ice.

Speaker 1:

Early in the morning a peasant who was passing by saw what had happened. He broke the ice in pieces with his wooden shoe and carried the duckling home to his wife. The warmth revived the poor little creature. But when the children wanted to play with him, the duckling thought they would do him some harm. So he started up in terror, fluttered into the milk pan and splashed the milk about their own. Then the woman clapped her hands, which frightened him still more. He flew first into the butter cask, then into the mealtown and out again.

Speaker 1:

What a condition he was in. The woman screamed and struck at him with tongs. The children laughed and screamed and tumbled over each other in their efforts to catch him, but luckily he escaped. The door stood open. The poor creature could just manage to slip out among the bushes and lie down quite exhausted in the newly fallen snow. It would be very sad were I to relate all the misery and privations which the poor little duckling endured during the hard winter.

Speaker 1:

But when it had passed he found himself lying one morning in a moor amongst the rushes. He felt the warm sun shining and heard the lark singing and saw that all around was beautiful spring. Then the young bird felt that his wings were strong as he flapped them against his sides and rose high into the air. They bore him onwards until he found himself in a large garden before he knew how it had happened. The apple trees were in full blossom and the fragrant elders bent their long green branches down to the stream which wound round a smooth lawn. Everything looked beautiful in the freshness of early spring. From a thicket close by came three beautiful white swans rustling their feathers and swimming lightly over the smooth water.

Speaker 1:

The duckling remembered the lovely birds and felt more strangely unhappy than ever. I will fly to those royal birds, he exclaimed, and they will kill me because I am so ugly and dare to approach them. But it does not matter. Better to be killed by them than packed by the ducks, beaten by the hens, pushed about by the maiden who feeds the poultry, or starred with hunger in the winter. Then he flew to the water and swam towards the beautiful swans. The moment they spotted the stranger, they rushed to meet him without stretched wings Cue me, said the poor bird, and he bent his head down to the surface of the water on a weighted death. But what did he see in the clear stream below His own image? No longer a dark, gray bird ugly and disagreeable to look at, but a graceful and beautiful swan. To be bored in a duck's nest in a farmyard is of no consequence to a bird if it is hatched from a swan's egg. He now felt glad at having suffered sorrow and trouble, because it enabled him to enjoy so much better all the pleasure and happiness around him.

Speaker 1:

The great swans swam round the newcomer and stroked his neck with their beaks as a welcome Into the garden. Presently came some little children who threw bread and cake into the water. "'look', cried the youngest, "'there is a new one' The rest were delighted and ran to their father and mother, dancing and clapping their hands and shouting joyously "'there is another swan, come. A new one has arrived'. Then they threw more bread and cake into the water and said "'The new one is the most beautiful of all. He is so young and pretty'". The old swans bowed their heads before him. Then he felt quite ashamed and hid his head under his wing, for he did not know what to do. He was so happy and yet not at all proud. He had been persecuted and despised for his ugliness. Now he heard them say he was the most beautiful of all the birds. Even the older tree bent down its bowels into the water. Before him, the sun shone warm and bright. He rustled his feathers, curved his slender neck and cried joyfully from the depths of his heart. I never dreamed of such happiness as this while I was an ugly duckling Sumbelina.

Speaker 1:

There was once a woman who wished very much to have a little child, but she could not obtain her wish. At last she went to a fairy and said "'I should so very much like to have a little child. Can you tell me where I can find one'. "'oh, that can be easily managed', said the fairy. "'here is a barley corn. It's of a different kind to those which grow in the farmer's fields and the chicken's eats. Put it into a flower pot and see what will happen'. "'thank you', said the woman, and she gave the fairy twelve shillings, which was the price of the barley corn. She went home and planted it. Immediately there grew up a large, handsome flower, something like a tulip in appearance, but with its leaves tightly closed as if it were still a bod. "'it's a beautiful flower', said the woman, and she kissed the red and golden-colored leaves. As she did so, the flower opened and she could see that it was a real tulip.

Speaker 1:

Within the flower, upon the green velvet stamens, sat a very delicate and graceful little maiden. She was scarcely half as long as a thumb, and they gave her the name of Thumbelina or tiny because she was so small. A walnut shell, elegantly polished, served her for a cradle. Her bed was formed of blue violet leaves with a rose leaf for a counterpane. Here she slept at night, but during the day she amused herself on a table where the woman had placed a plate full of water. Around this plate were wreaths of flowers with their stems in the water, and upon it floated a large tulip leaf which served tiny for a boat. Here the little maiden sat and rode herself from side to side with two oars made of white horse-hair. It really was a very pretty sight. Tiny could also sing so softly and sweetly that nothing like her singing had ever been heard.

Speaker 1:

One night, while she lay in her pretty bed, a large, ugly, wet toad crept through a broken pane of glass in the window and leaped right upon the table where Tiny lay sleeping under her rose leaf quilt. What a pretty little wife this will make for my soul, said the toad. And she took up the walnut shell in which little Tiny lay asleep and jumped through the window with it into the garden. In the swampy margin of a broad stream in the garden lived the toad with her son. He was uglier even than his mother, and when he saw the pretty little maiden in her elegant bed he could only cry Croak, croak, croak. Don't speak so loud or she will wake, said the toad, and then she might run away, for she is as light as swans down. We will place her on one of the water lily leaves out in the stream. It will be like an island to her. She is so light and small, and then she cannot escape. And while she is away we will make haste and prepare the stature under the marsh in which you are to live when you are married. Far out in the stream grew a number of water lilies with broad green leaves which seemed to float on top of the water. The largest of these leaves appeared farther off than the rest and the old toads swam out to it with the walnut shell in which little tiny lay still asleep.

Speaker 1:

The tiny little creature woke very early in the morning and began to cry bitterly when she found where she was. She could see nothing but water on every side of the large green leaf and no way of reaching the land. Meanwhile the old toad was very busy under the marsh decking her room with rushes and wild yellow flowers to make it look pretty for her new daughter-in-law. Then she swam out with her ugly son to the leaf on which she had placed poor little tiny. She wanted to fetch the pretty bed that she might put it in the bridal chamber to be ready for her. The old toad bowed low to her in the water and said Here is my son. He will be your husband and you will live happily in the marsh by the stream. Croak, croak, croak was all her son could say for himself. The toad took up the elegant little bed and they swam away with it, leaving tiny all alone on the green leaf where she sat and wept. She could not bear to think of living with the old toad and having her ugly son for a husband.

Speaker 1:

The little fish who swam about in the water beneath had seen the toad and heard what she said. So they lifted their heads above the water to look at the little maiden. As soon as they caught sight of her they saw she was very pretty and it made them very sorry to think that she must go and live with the ugly toads. No, it must never be. So they assembled together in the water round the green stalk which held the leaf on which the little maiden stood, and knotted away at the root with their teeth.

Speaker 1:

The leaf floated down the stream, carrying Tiny far away out of reach of land. Tiny sailed past many towns and the little birds in the bushes saw her and sang what a lovely little creature. So the leaf swam away with her father and father till it brought her to other lands. A graceful little white butterfly constantly flooded around her and at last alighted on the leaf. Tiny pleased him and she was glad of it, for now the toad could not possibly reach her and the country through which she sailed was beautiful. The sun shone upon the water till it glittered like liquid gold. She took off her sash and tied one end of it round the butterfly. The other end of the ribbon she fastened to the leaf, which now glided on much faster than ever, taking little Tiny with it.

Speaker 1:

As she stood Presently, a large doodle-bug flew by The moment he caught sight of her, he seized her around her delicate waist with his claws and flew with her into a tree. The green leaf floated away on the brook, the butterfly floated with it, for he was fastened to it and could not get away. Oh, how frightened little Tiny felt when the doodle-bug flew with her to the tree. But especially was she sorry for the beautiful white butterfly which she had fastened to the leaf, for if he could not free himself he would die of hunger. But the doodle-bug did not trouble himself at all about the matter. He seated himself by her side on a large green leaf, gave her some honey from the flowers to eat and told her she was very pretty, though not in the least like a doodle-bug. All the doodle-bugs turned up their feelers and said She has only two legs. How ugly that looks. She has no feelers, said another. Her waist is quite slim, pooh, she is like a human being. Oh, she is ugly, said all the lady-doodle-bugs, although Tiny was very pretty. Then the doodle-bug who had run away with her believed all the others when they said she was ugly and would have nothing more to say to her. He told her she might go where she liked. He flew down with her from the tree and placed her on a daisy and she wept at the thought that she was so ugly that even the doodle-bugs would have nothing to say to her. And all the while she was really the loveliest creature that one could imagine and as tender and delicate as a beautiful rose-leaf.

Speaker 1:

During the summer, poor little Tiny lived quite alone in the wide forest. She wove herself to bed with blades of grass and hung it under a broad leaf to protect herself from the rain. She sucked the honey from the flowers for food and drank the dew from their leaves every morning. She passed away the summer of the autumn and then came the winter, the long, cold winter. All the birds who had sung to her so sweetly were flown away and the trees and the flowers had withered. A large clover leaf, under the shelter of which she had lived, was now rolled together and shriveled up. Nothing remained but a yellow withered stalk.

Speaker 1:

She felt dreadfully cold, for her clothes were torn and she was herself so frail and delicate that poor little Tiny was nearly frozen to death. It began to snow too, and the snowflakes as they fell upon her were like a whole shovelful falling upon one of us. For we are tall. She was only an inch high. She wrapped herself up in a dry leaf, but it cracked in the middle and could not keep her warm, and she shivered with cold. Near the wood in which she had been living lay a corn field, but the corn had been cut a long time. Nothing remained but a bare, dry stubble standing up out of the frozen ground. It was to her like struggling through a large wood. Oh, how she shivered with the cold.

Speaker 1:

She came at last to the door of a field-mouse who had a little den under the corn stubble. There dwelt the field-mouse. It warmed and comforted with a whole roomful of corn, a kitchen and a beautiful dining-room. Poor little Tiny stood before the door just like a little beggar-girl and begged for a small piece of barley-corn, for she had been without a morsel to eat for two days. "'you poor little creature', said the field-mouse, who was really a good old field-mouse, "'come into my warm room and dine with me'. She was very pleased with Tiny, so she said "'You are quite welcome to stay with me all the winter if you like, but you must keep my rooms clean and neat and tell me stories. I shall like to hear them very much'. Tiny did all the field-mouse ask her and found herself very comfortable. "'we will have a visitor soon', said the field-mouse one day. "'my neighbor pays me a visit once a week. He is much better off than I am. He has large rooms and wears a beautiful black velvet coat. If you could only have him for a husband, you would be well provided for indeed, but he is blind, so you must tell him some of your prettiest stories'. But Tiny did not feel at all interested in this neighbor, for he was a mole. However, he came and paid his visit dressed in his black velvet coat. "'he is very rich and learned, and his house is twenty times larger than mine', said the field-mouse. He was rich and learned, no doubt, but he always spoke slightly of the sun and the pretty flowers because he had never seen them. Tiny was obliged to sing to him Lady Bird, lady Bird, fly away home and many other pretty songs, and the mole fell in love with her because she had such a sweet voice. But he said nothing yet, or he was very cautious A short time before.

Speaker 1:

The mole had done a long passage under the earth which led from the dwelling of the field-mouse to his own, and here she had permission to walk with Tiny whenever she liked. But he warned them not to be alarmed at the sight of a dead bird which lay in the passage. It was a perfect bird with a beak and feathers and could not have been dead long and was lying just where the mole had made his passage. The Mole took a piece of phosphorescent wood in his mouth and it glittered like fire in the dark. Then he went before them to light them through the long dark passage. When they came to the spot where lay the dead bird, the Mole pushed his broad nose through the ceiling. The earth gave way so that there was a large hole and the daylight shone into the passage. In the middle of the floor lay a dead swallow, his beautiful wings pulled close to his sides, his feet and his head drawn up under his feathers. The poor bird had evidently died of the cold. It made little Tiny very sad to see it.

Speaker 1:

She did so love the little birds. All the summer they had sung and twitted for her so beautifully. The Mole pushed it aside with his crooked legs and said He will sing no more. How miserable it must be to be born a little bird. I am thankful that none of my children will ever be birds. But they can do nothing but cry, tweet, tweet and always die of hunger in the winter. Yes, you may well say that, as a clever man exclaimed, the field mouse. It is the use of his twittering, for when winter comes he must either starve or be frozen to death. Still, birds are very high-bred. Tiny said nothing, but when the two others had turned their backs on the bird, she stooped down and stroked the soft feathers which covered the head and kissed the closed eyelids. Perhaps this was the one who sang to me so sweetly in the summer. She said How much pleasure it gave me, you, dear pretty bird.

Speaker 1:

The Mole now stopped up the hoe through which the daylight shone and then accompanied the lady home. But during the night Tiny could not sleep. So she got out of bed and wove a large, beautiful carpet of hay and she carried it to the dead bird and spread it over him with some down from the flowers which she had found in the field mouse's room. It was as soft as wool and she spread some of it on each side of the bird so that he might lie warmly in the cold earth. Farewell, you pretty little bird. She said, farewell, thank you for your delightful singing during the summer, when all the trees were green and the warm sun shone upon us. Then she laid her head on the bird's breast, but she was alarmed immediately, for it seemed as if something inside the bird went thump, thump. It was the bird's heart. He was not really dead, only benumbed with the cold, and the warmth had restored him to life.

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In autumn all the swallows fly away into warm countries, but if one happens to linger, the cold seizes it, it becomes frozen and falls down as if dead. It remains where it fell and the cold snow covers it. Tiny trembled very much. She was quite frightened, for the bird was large, a great deal larger than herself. She was only an inch high. But she took courage, laid the wool more thickly over the poor swallow and then took a leaf which she had used for her own counterpane and laid it over the head of the poor bird.

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The next morning she again stole out to see him. He was alive, but very weak. He could only open his eyes for a moment to look at Tiny, who stood by holding a piece of decayed wood in her hand, for she had no other lantern. Thank you, pretty little maiden, said the sick swallow. I have been so nicely warmed that I shall soon regain my strength and be able to fly about again in the warm sunshine. Oh, she said it's cold out of doors now. It snows and freezes. Stay in your warm bed, i will take care of you. Then she brought the swallow some water and a flower-leaf. He told her that he had wounded one of his wings in a thorn bush and could not fly as fast as the others who were soon far away on their journey to warm countries. Then, at last, he had fallen to the earth and could remember no more, nor how he came to be where she had found him.

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The whole winter the swallow remained underground and Tiny nursed him with care and love. Neither the mole nor the field mouse knew anything about it, for they did not like swallows. Very soon the spring time came and the sun warmed the earth. Then the swallow bedfare well to Tiny and she opened the hole in the ceiling which the mole had made. The sun shone in upon them so beautifully that the swallow asked her if she would go with him. She could sit on his back, he said, and he would fly away with her into the green woods. But Tiny knew it would make the field mouse very grieved if she left her again that manner. So she said No, i cannot. Farewell then, farewell you, good, pretty little maiden, said the swallow, and he flew out into the sunshine. Tiny looked after him and the tears rose in her eyes. She was very fond of the poor swallow. Tweet, tweet, sang the bird as he flew out into the green woods. And Tiny felt very sad. She was not allowed to go out into the warm sunshine.

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The corn which had been sown in the field over the house of the field mouse had grown up high into the air and formed a thick wood. To Tiny, who was only an inch in height, you are going to be married, tiny, said the field mouse. My neighbor has asked for you What good fortune for a poor child like you How We will prepare your wedding clothes. They must be both woollen and linen. Everything must be a wanting when you are the mole's wife, tiny, had to turn the spindle, and the field mouse hired four spiders who were to weave day and night.

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Every evening the mole visited her and was continually speaking of the time when the summer would be over. Then he would keep his wedding day with Tiny. But now the heat of the sun was so great that it burned the earth and made it quite hard like a stone. As soon as the summer was over, the wedding should take place. But Tiny was not at all pleased, for she did not like the tiresome mole. Every morning when the sun rose, and every evening when it was down, she would creep out at the door and as the wind blew aside the ears of corn so that she could see the blue sky. She thought how beautiful and bright it seemed out there and wished so much, so much to see her dear swallow again. But he never returned, for by this time he had flown far away into the lovely green forest When autumn arrived, tiny had her outfit quite ready and the field mouse had to her.

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In four weeks the wedding must take place. Then Tiny wept and said she would not marry the disagreeable mole. Then sense replied the field mouse now don't be obstinate or I shall bite you with my white teeth. He is a very handsome mole. The Queen herself does not wear more beautiful velvets than first. His kitchen and cellars are quite full. We want to be very thankful for such good fortune.

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So the wedding day was fixed, on which the Mole was to fetch Tiny away to live with him deep under the earth and never again to see the warm sun, because he did not like it. The poor child was very unhappy at the thought of saying farewell to the beautiful sun and, as the Field Mouse had given her permission to stand at the door, she went to look at it once more. Farewell, bright sun, she cried, stretching out her arm towards it. And then she walked a short distance from the house where the corn had been cut and only the dry stubble remained in the fields. Farewell, farewell, she repeated, twining her arm round the little red flower that grew just by her side. Tweet, the little swallow for me, if you should see him again, tweet, tweet, sounded over her head. Suddenly She looked up and there was the swallow himself flying close by. As soon as he spied Tiny, he was delighted, and then she told him how unwilling she felt to marry the ugly Mole and to live always beneath the earth and never to see the bright sun any more. And as she told him, she wept.

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"'cold winter is coming', said the swallow, and I am going to fly away into warmer countries. Will you go with me? You can sit on my back and fasten yourself on with your stash. Then we can fly away from the ugly Mole and his gloomy rooms, far away over the mountains, into the warmer countries where the sun shines more brightly than here, where it is always summer and the flowers bloom in greater beauty. Fly now with me, dear little Tiny. You saved my life when I lay frozen in that dark passage. "'yes, i will go with you' said Tiny, and she seated herself on the bird's back, with her feet on his outstretched wings, and tied her sash to one of his strongest feathers.

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The swallow rose in the air and flew over forests and over sea, high above the highest mountains covered with eternal snow. Tiny would have been frozen in the cold air, but she crept under the bird's warm feathers, keeping her little head down covered, so that she might admire the beautiful lands over which they passed At length. They reached the warm countries where the sun shines brightly and the sky seemed so much higher above the earth. Here, on the hedges and by the wayside, through purple, green and white grapes, lemons and oranges hung from trees in the woods, and the air was fragrant with myrtles and orange blossoms. Beautiful children ran along the country lanes playing with large gay butterflies, and as the swallow flew farther and farther, every place appeared still more lovely.

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At last they came to a blue lake, and by the side of it, shaded by trees of the deepest green, stood a palace of dazzling white marble built in the olden times. Vines clustered round its lofty pillars, and at the top were many swallow's nests, and one of those was the home of the swallow who carried Tiny. This is my house, said the swallow, but it would not do for you to live there. You would not be comfortable. You must choose for yourself one of those lovely flowers and I will put you down upon it, and then you shall have everything that you can wish to make you happy. That will be delightful, she said and clapped her little hands for joy.

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A large marble pillar lay on the ground which, in falling, had been broken into three pieces. Between these pieces grew the most beautiful large white flowers. So the swallow flew down with Tiny and placed her on one of the broad leaves. But how surprised she was to see in the middle of the flower a tiny little man as white and transparent as if he had been made of crystal. He had a gold crown on his head and delicate wings at his shoulders and was not much larger than Tiny 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 Tiny to the swallow.

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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 Tiny 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. He 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 to the son of a toad or the mole with black velvet and fur. So she said yes to the handsome prince.

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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 Tiny a present, but the best gift was a pair of beautiful wings which had belonged to a large white fly. They fastened them to tiny shoulders so that she might fly from flower to flower.

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Then there was much rejoicing and the little swallow who sat above them in his nest was asked to sing a wedding song, which she did as well as he could, but in his heart he felt sad, for he was very fond of Tiny and would have liked never to part from her again. "'you must not be called Tiny any more', said the spirit of the flowers to her. It is an ugly name and you are so very pretty. We will call you Maya'". Farewell, said the swallow with a heavy heart as he left the warm countries to fly back to 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 this whole story.

Introduction
The Ugly Duckling
Thumbelina