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拇指姑娘(六) (9分钟)

2011-2-10 09:42| 发布者: 栗萍| 查看: 1096| 评论: 0

摘要: 英语故事 怎样如何学好英语 小学生学英语 网上英语培训 英语阅读 提高英语成绩 英语专家讲座
 
 
Little Tiny or Thumbelina
by Hans Christian Andersen(6)
 
And the mole fell in love with her because she had such a sweet voice;
but he said nothing yet,
for he was very cautious.
A short time before, the mole  had dug a long passage under the earth,
which led from the dwelling of the field-mouse to his own,
and here she had permission to walk with Tiny whenever she liked.
But he warned them not to be alarmed at the sight of a dead bird 
which lay  in the passage.

 


It was a perfect bird, with a beak and feathers, 
and could not have been dead long,
and was lying just where the mole had made his passage.
The mole took a piece of phosphorescent wood in his mouth,
and it glittered like fire in the dark;
then he went before them to light them through the long, dark passage.

 


When they  came to the spot where lay the dead bird,

the mole pushed his broad nose through the ceiling,

the earth gave way,

so that there was a large hole, and the daylight shone into the passage.

 

 In the middle of the floor lay a dead swallow,
his beautiful wings pulled close to his sides,
his feet and his head drawn up under his feathers;
the poor bird had evidently died of the cold.
 
 
 It made little Tiny very sad to see it,
she did so love the little birds;
all the summer they had sung  and twittered for her so beautifully.
But the mole pushed it aside with his crooked legs,
and said, "He will sing no more now.
How miserable it must be to be born a little bird!
I am thankful that none of my children will ever be birds, 
for they can do nothing but cry, 'Tweet, tweet,'
and always die of hunger in the winter."
 
 
 "Yes, you may well say that, as a clever man!" exclaimed the field-mouse ,
 "What is the use of his twittering,
for when winter comes he must either starve or be frozen to death.
Still birds are very high bred."
Tiny said nothing;
but  when the two others had turned their backs on the bird, 
she stooped down and stroked aside the soft feathers which covered the head,
and kissed the closed eyelids.
 

 "Perhaps this was the one who sang to me so sweetly in the summer," she said; 
"and how much pleasure it gave me, you dear, pretty bird."
The mole now stopped up the hole through
which the daylight shone,
and then accompanied the lady home.
 
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