There was once a poor peasant. He sat in the evening by the hearth and poked the fire, and his wife sat and spun. Then "How sad it is that we have no children. With us all is so quiet, and in other houses it is noisy and lively." said he.
"Yes," replied the wife, and sighed, "even if we had only one, and it were quite small, and only as big as a thumb. I should be quite satisfied. We would still love it with all olur hearts."
Now it so happened that the woman had a child. He was perfect in all its limbs, but no longer than a thumb. "It is as we wished it to be, and it shall be our dear shild." said they. because of its size, they called it Tom Thumb. Though they did not let it want for food, the child did not grow taller, but remained as it had been at the first.
One day, the peasant was getting ready to go into the forest to cut wood. He said to himself, "How I wish that there was someone who would bring the cart to me."