dazzling white marble palace of the olden times; the vines clustered round its high pillars and on the top were a number of swallows' nests, and in one of these lived the swallow who had carried Thumbeline.
"This is my home," said the swallow; "but if you vvill choose one of the prettiest flowers which grow down there I will put you on it, and you shall be as happy as you wish."
"How splendid!" she said, and clapped her little hands.
Down in the garden lay a great white marble pillar which had fallen to the ground and was broken in two places; but between the pieces grew the most lovely white flowers. The swallow flew down with Thumbeline and put her on one of the large petals of one of the flowers; but what a surprise awaited her ! She saw a little man sitting in the middle of the flower, so white and transparent, as if he had been made of glass, with the most lovely golden crown on his head, and the most beautiful, clear wings on his shoulders, while he himself was no bigger than Thumbeline. He was the angel of the flower. In every flower there lived such a little man or woman, but this one was the king of them all.
"Oh! How beautiful he is!" whispered Thumbeline to the swallow. The little prince became greatly frightened at the swallow, for he was, of course, quite a gigantic creature compared to him, who was so small and tender; but when he saw Thumbeline he became so pleased, for she was the most beautiful girl he ever had seen. He therefore took off his golden crown and placed it on her head, and asked her what her name was, and if she would become his wife, and she should be queen over all the flowers- He was indeed a husband for her, quite different to the son of the toad and to the mole with the black, velvety fur coat. She therefore said "Yes" to the lovely prince, and out of every flower came a lady and a cavalier so beautiful that it was a pleasure to look at them. All of them brought Thumbeline a present, but the best of them all was a pair of lovely wings of a large white fly. These were fastened to Thumbeline's back, and then she was able to fly from flower to flower. There was much rejoicing, and the swallow sat up in his nest and sang to them as well as he could, although at heart he was very sorry, for he was very fond of Thumbeline and would have liked never to part from her.
"You must not be called Thumbeline," said the angel of the flower to her; "it is an ugly name, and you are beautiful. We will call you Maja."
"Good-by, good-by!" said the swallow, and he flew away from the hot countries back to Denmark, where he had a little nest over the window in the house where the man lives who can write fairy tales. To him he sang, "Tweet, tweet!" and from him we have the whole story.
