She was living all alone in the wood now, but it was summer and she could not feel sad or lonely while the warm golden sunshine touched her so gently, while the birds sang to her, and the flowers bowed to her. Yes, little Thumbelina was happy. She ate honey from the flowers, and drank dew out of the golden buttercups and danced and sang the livelong day. But summer passed away and autumn came. The birds began to whisper of flying to warmer countries, and the flowers began to fade and hang their heads, and as autumn passed away, winter came, cold, dreary winter. Thumbelina shivered with cold. Her little frock was thin and old. She would certainly be frozen to death, she thought, as she wrapped herself up in a withered leaf. Then the snow began to fall, and each snow-flake seemed to smother her. She was so very tiny. Close to the wood lay a corn-field. The beautiful golden grain had been carried away long ago, now there was only dry short stubble. But to little Thumbelina the stubble was like a great forest. She walked through the hard field. She was shaking with cold. All at once she saw a little door just before her. The field-mouse had made a little house under the stubble, and lived so cozily there. She had a big room full of corn, and she had a kitchen and pantry as well. "Perhaps I shall get some food here," thought the cold and hungry little maiden, as she stood knocking at the door, just like a tiny beggar child. She had had nothing to eat for two long days. Oh, she was very hungry! "What a tiny thing you are!" said the field-mouse, as she opened the door and saw Thumbelina. "Come in and dine with me." How glad Thumbelina was, and how she enjoyed dining with the field-mouse. She behaved so prettily that the old field-mouse told her she might live with her while the cold weather lasted. "And you shall keep my room clean and neat, and you shall tell me stories," she added. That is how Thumbelina came to live with the field-mouse and to meet Mr. Mole. "We shall have a visitor soon," said the field-mouse. "My neighbor, Mr. Mole, comes to see me every week-day. His house is very large, and he wears a beautiful coat of black velvet. Unfortunately, he is blind. If you tell him your prettiest stories he may marry you." Now the mole was very wise and very clever, but how could little Thumbelina ever care for him. Why, he did not love the sun, nor the flowers, and he lived in a house underground. No, Thumbelina did not wish to marry the mole. However she must sing to him when he came to visit his neighbor, the field-mouse. When she had sung, "Ladybird, Ladybird, fly away home," and "Boys and girls, come out to play," the mole was charmed, and thought he would like to marry the little maiden with the beautiful voice. Then he tried to be very agreeable. He invited the field-mouse and Thumbelina to walk along the underground passage he had dug between their houses. Mr. Mole was very fond of digging underground.