Boys and Girls Bookshelf; a Practical Plan of Character Building, Volume I (of 17) Fun and Thought for Little Folk

The section closes with Hans Christian Andersen’s “Thumbelina.” A lonely woman wishes for a child, and a witch gives her a barley-corn that grows into a tulip, in whose heart sits a maiden no bigger than a thumb. Thumbelina’s cradle is a blue-lined walnut shell, her bed a heap of violets, her coverlet a pale pink rose petal. She rows a tulip-leaf boat across a plate of water with two white horsehairs. But an ugly old toad, hoping to make a bride of her for her son, hops off with the cradle through a broken windowpane. Thumbelina wakes in despair on a water-lily leaf in the middle of a stream. The little fish, however, take pity on her and gnaw through the lily stem, setting her leaf afloat downstream to freedom. She ties her sash to a white butterfly for company, but a cockchafer carries her off to a tree, where his fellows declare her ugly, and she is set down on a daisy. Alone in the wood, she dances happily through the summer until autumn fades and winter comes. Cold and starving, she finds the door of a kind field-mouse, who shelters her in exchange for housekeeping and storytelling. There she meets the wealthy but blind Mr. Mole, who wishes to marry her. To please her hostess, Thumbelina tends the sick swallow the mole dismisses, warming it with a hay carpet and cotton. When spring returns, the swallow revives and asks her to fly away with him. On her forced wedding day, Thumbelina whispers farewell to the sun and begs a red flower to tell the swallow she will not forget. The swallow hears, swoops down, and carries her away on his wing, bound for the warm countries. They reach a ruined white marble palace where swallows nest, and Thumbelina is set upon a brilliant sunflower. There, in the heart of the flower, stands a tiny crystal Prince with delicate wings—the flower-spirit King, every bit as small as she.

VIII (Part 6 of 8)

The flower-spirit king crowned Thumbelina and asked her to be his bride. She agreed; tiny children stepped from each blossom with gifts, including gossamer wings that let her fly flower to flower, while a swallow sang his sweetest bridal song.

A little red hen worked in her white house with a green garden. Mamma Fox craved a fat hen; Papa Fox smelled fresh cake, crept up behind her as she ate, and stuffed her into a bag. She cut first a small hole, then a larger one at a stony hill, leapt out, and slipped a stone into her place. At home Mamma Fox had water boiling; when Papa opened the bag, the splash scalded them both. They never tried to catch that hen again.

A poor shoemaker had leather for one pair of shoes. He cut them out and went to bed; by morning they were perfectly stitched. A customer paid well, he bought leather for two more pairs, and the miracle continued until he prospered. On Christmas Eve the couple hid to watch. At midnight two little manikins stitched and hammered with astonishing speed, then vanished. The wife declared they must show gratitude; she made shirts, coats, waistcoats, trousers, and stockings, and he made each a pair of shoes. That night the elves found no leather but neat clothes, burst into rapturous glee, sang, “Smart and natty boys are we; Cobblers we’ll no longer be,” and danced out the door, never to return. The shoemaker lived happily to the end of his days.

A little old man and woman living by a wood longed for a child. One day the woman was baking gingerbread and cut a cake in the shape of a little boy, but when she opened the oven, it jumped out and ran. As he passed a barn of threshers, a field of mowers, a cow, a pig, and at last a fox, he cried, “I’ve run away from a little old woman, A little old man, And I can run away from you, I can!”—but the fox ran very fast and caught him. The gingerbread boy cried, “O dear! I’m quarter gone!” then “half gone!” then “three-quarters gone!” and finally “I’m all gone!” and never spoke again.

Mischief, a cunning plump pup with a roguish face, was the most memorable of nine brothers and sisters. When the others were sent away, he was left alone with the mastiff Rex. One cold January morning he was taken into the kitchen and became a happy, busy dog, chasing cats and stealing towels. Two weeks later a letter from Milwaukee said he too must be sent off. Knowing what was afoot, he gathered his old coat, shiny milk-dish, stove-hook, gelatin-box collar, and mittens beneath the table. When a yellow kitten crossed the floor he tried to gather her in too, but she scratched and refused. He fell asleep and was packed into a warm box, arriving after three days in Milwaukee, delighted with his new master.

Willie, a very little child who lived near a mill, ran crying to his papa when a cruel boy threw a puppy into the mill-pond. His father pulled the shivering puppy out with a pole, and Willie named him Diver. Within a year Diver grew into a big shaggy fellow who followed Willie everywhere. When nuts were ripe, Willie reached for hazelnuts on a bush hanging over the deep pond, slipped, and fell in. Diver jumped after, took him by the collar, and brought him safely to land. The dog had a fine way of thanking the boy who had once saved his life, and they were the best of friends from then on.

Little Gordon Bruce had a fine large Christmas tree and many toys. After Christmas his mother said the dried tree must come down, but agreed to wait one more rainy day. With no playmates around, Gordon remembered the Scottish castles his father had told of, set high on mountains to keep soldiers away. Among his presents was a tiny castle and a company of soldiers. He threw a thick rug over a chair to make a steep hill, placed the castle on top, set the soldiers in a row below, and rolled Uncle George’s colored glass marbles down through the castle and out the front door, knocking over soldier after soldier. Wooden and unhurt, they were stood up again and again.