`How handsome he is!’ whispered Thumbelina to the swallow.
The little Prince was very much frightened at the swallow, for in comparison with one so tiny as himself he seemed a giant. But when he saw Thumbelina, he was delighted, for she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. So he took his golden crown from off his head and put it on hers, asking her her name, and if she would be his wife, and then she would be Queen of all the flowers. Yes! he was a different kind of husband to the son of the toad and the mole with the black-velvet coat. So she said `Yes’ to the noble Prince. And out of each flower came a lady and gentleman, each so tiny and pretty that it was a pleasure to see them. Each brought Thumbelina a present, but the best of all was a beautiful pair of wings which were fastened on to her back, and now she too could fly from flower to flower. They all wished her joy, and the swallow sat above in his nest and sang the wedding march, and that he did as well as he could; but he was sad, because he was very fond of Thumbelina and did not want to be separated from her.
`You shall not be called Thumbelina!’ said the spirit of the flower to her; `that is an ugly name, and you are much too pretty for that. We will call you May Blossom.’
`Farewell, farewell!’ said the little swallow with a heavy heart, and flew away to farther lands, far, far away, right back to Denmark. There he had a little nest above a window, where his wife lived, who can tell fairy-stories. `Tweet, tweet!’ he sang to her. And that is the way we learnt the whole story.
THE NIGHTINGALE
IN China, as I daresay you know, the Emperor is a Chinaman, and all his courtiers are also Chinamen. The story I am going to tell you happened many years ago, but it is worth while for you to listen to it, before it is forgotten.
The Emperor’s Palace was the most splendid in the world, all made of priceless porcelain, but so brittle and delicate that you had to take great care how you touched it. In the garden were the most beautiful flowers, and on the loveliest of them were tied silver bells which tinkled, so that if you passed you could not help looking at the flowers. Everything in the Emperor’s garden was admirably arranged with a view to effect; and the garden was so large that even the gardener himself did not know where it ended. If you ever got beyond it, you came to a stately forest with great trees and deep lakes in it. The forest sloped down to the sea, which was a clear blue. Large ships could sail under the boughs of the trees, and in these trees there lived a Nightingale. She sang so beautifully that even the poor fisherman who had so much to do stood and listened when he came at night to cast his nets. `How beautiful it is!’ he said; but he had to attend to his work, and forgot about the bird. But when she sang the next night and the fisherman came there again, he said the same thing, `How beautiful it is!’
From all the countries round came travellers to the Emperor’s town, who were astonished at the Palace and the garden. But when they heard the Nightingale they all said, `This is the finest thing after all!’
The travellers told all about it when they went home, and learned scholars wrote many books upon the town, the Palace, and the garden. But they did not forget the Nightingale; she was praised the most, and all the poets composed splendid verses on the Nightingale in the forest by the deep sea.
The books were circulated throughout the world, and some of them reached the Emperor. He sat in his golden chair, and read and read. He nodded his head every moment, for he liked reading the brilliant accounts of the town, the Palace, and the garden. `But the Nightingale is better than all,’ he saw written.
`What is that?’ said the Emperor. `I don’t know anything about the Nightingale! Is there such a bird in my empire, and so near as in my garden? I have never heard it! Fancy reading for the first time about it in a book!’
And he called his First Lord to him. He was so proud that if anyone of lower rank than his own ventured to speak to him or ask him anything, he would say nothing but `P!’ and that does not mean anything.
`Here is a most remarkable bird which is called a Nightingale!’ said the Emperor. `They say it is the most glorious thing in my kingdom. Why has no one ever said anything to me about it?’
`I have never before heard it mentioned!’ said the First Lord. `I will look for it and find it!’
But where was it to be found? The First Lord ran up and down stairs, through the halls and corridors; but none of those he met had ever heard of the Nightingale. And the First Lord ran again to the Emperor, and told him that it must be an invention on the part of those who had written the books.
`Your Irmperial Majesty cannot really believe all that is written! There are some inventions called the Black Art!’
`But the book in which I read this,’ said the Emperor, `is sent me by His Great Majesty the Emperor of Japan; so it cannot be untrue, and I will hear the Nightingale! She must be here this evening! She has my gracious permission to appear, and if she does not, the whole Court shall be trampled under foot after supper!’
`Tsing pe!’ said the First Lord; and he ran up and down stairs, through the halls and corridors, and half the Court ran with him, for they did not want to be trampled under foot. Everyone was asking after the wonderful Nightingale which all the world knew of, except those at Court.
At last they met a poor little girl in the kitchen, who said, `Oh! I know the Nightingale well. How she sings! I have permission to carry the scraps over from the Court meals to my poor sick mother, and when I am going home at night, tired and weary, and rest for a little in the wood, then I hear the Nightingale singing! It brings tears to my eyes, and I feel as if my mother were kissing me!’
`Little kitchenmaid!’ said the First Lord, `I will give you a place in the kitchen, and you shall have leave to see the Emperor at dinner, if you can lead us to the Nightingale, for she is invited to come to Court this evening.’
And so they all went into the wood where the Nightingale was wont to sing, and half the Court went too.
When they were on the way there they heard a cow mooing.
`Oh!’ said the Courtiers, `now we have found her! What a wonderful power for such a small beast to have! I am sure we have heard her before!’
`No; that is a cow mooing I `said the little kitchenmaid. `We are still a long way off!’
Then the frogs began to croak in the marsh. `Splendid!’ said the Chinese chaplain. `Now we hear her; it sounds like a little church-bell!’
`No, no; those are frogs!’ said the little kitchenmaid. `But I think we shall soon hear her now!’
Then the Nightingale began to sing.
`There she is!’ cried the little girl. `Listen! She is sitting there!’ And she pointed to a little dark-grey bird up in the branches.
`Is it possible!’ said the First Lord. `I should never have thought it! How ordinary she looks! She must surely have lost her feathers because she sees so many distinguished men round her!’
`Little Nightingale,’ called out the little kitchenmaid, `our Gracious Emperor wants you to sing before him!’
`With the greatest of pleasure!’ said the Nightingale; and she sang so gloriously that it was a pleasure to listen.
`It sounds like glass bells!’ said the First Lord. `And look how her little throat works! It is wonderful that we have never heard her before! She will be a great success at Court.’
`Shall I sing once more for the Emperor?’ asked the Nightingale, thinking that the Emperor was there.
`My esteemed little Nightingale,’ said the First Lord, `I have the great pleasure to invite you to Court this evening, where His Gracious Imperial Highness will be enchanted with your charming song!’
`It sounds best in the green wood,’ said the Nightingale; but still, she came gladly when she heard that the Emperor wished it. At the Palace everything was splendidly prepared. The porcelain walls and floors glittered in the light of many thousand gold lamps; the most gorgeous flowers which tinkled out well were placed in the corridors. There was such a hurrying and draught that all the bells jingled so much that one could not hear oneself speak. In the centre of the great hall where the Emperor sat was a golden perch, on which the Nightingale sat. The whole Court was there, and the little kitchenmaid was allowed to stand behind the door, now that she was a Court-cook. Everyone was dressed in his best, and everyone was looking towards the little grey bird to whom the Emperor nodded.