The mole now stopped up the hole 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;then 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,”said she,“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.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.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,”said she,“it is 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 in a flower-leaf,and after he had drank,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.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 bade farewell 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 in 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.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.Now we will prepare your wedding clothes.They must be both woollen and linen.Nothing must be 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.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 went 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 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 said to her,“In four weeks the wedding must take place.”
Then Tiny wept,and said she would not marry the disagreeable mole.
“Nonsense,”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 and furs.His kitchen and cellars are quite full.You ought to be very thankful for such good fortune.”
