When the spring came, and the sun warmed the earth again, the swallow said farewell to Thumbelina and flew away.
'Now you are to be a bride this very autumn, Thumbelina!' said the field-mouse, 'for our neighbour has proposed for you! What a piece of fortune for a poor child like you!
But she was not at all pleased about it, for she did not like the stupid mole.
Spring and summer passed and the wedding-day arrived. The mole had come to fetch Thumbelina to live with him deep down under the ground, never to come out into the warm sun again, for that was what he didn't like.
'Tweet, tweet!' sounded in her ear all at once. She looked up. There was the swallow flying past!
'The cold winter is coming now,' said the swallow. 'I must fly away to warmer lands: will you come with me? You can sit on my back, and we will fly over the mountains, to the warm countries where the sun shines more brightly than here, where it is always summer, and there are always beautiful flowers.’
'Yes, I will go with you,' said Thumbelina, and got on the swallow's back. Up he flew into the air, over woods and seas, over the great mountains where the snow is always lying.
