夏洛特的网16 Off to the Fair

CHAPTER16 Off to the Fair The night before the County Fair, everybody went to bed early. Fern and Averywere in bed by eight. Avery lay dreaming that the Ferris wheel had stopped and that he was inthe top car. Fernlay dreaming that she was getting sick in the swings. Lurvy was in bed by eight-thirty. He lay dreaming that he was throwingbaseballs at a cloth cat and winning a genuine Navajo blanket. Mr. and Mrs. Zuckerman were in bed bynine. Mrs. Zuckerman lay dreaming about a deep freeze unit. Mr. Zuckerman lay dreamingabout Wilbur. He dreamt that Wilbur had grown until he was one hundred and sixteen feet long andninety-two feet high and that he had won all the prizes at the Fair and was covered with blueribbons and even had a blue ribbon tied to the end of his tail. Downin the barn cellar, the animals, too, went to sleep early, all exceptCharlotte. Tomorrow would be Fair Day. Every creature planned to get up early to see Wilbur off onhis great adventure. Whenmorning came, everybody got up at daylight. The day was hot. Up the road at theArables’ house, Fern lugged a pail of hot water to her room and took a sponge bath. Thenshe put on her prettiest dress because she knew she would see boys at the Fair. Mrs. Arablescrubbed the back of Avery’s neck, and wet his hair, and parted it, and brushed it down hard till itstuck to the top of his head - all but about six hairs that stood straight up. Avery put on cleanunderwear, clean blue jeans, and a clean shirt. Mr. Arable dressed, ate breakfast, and then went out andpolished his truck. He had offered to drive everybody to the Fair, including Wilbur. Brightand early, Lurvy put clean straw in Wilbur’s crate and lifted it into thepigpen. The crate wasgreen. In gold letters it said: ZUCKERMAN’SFAMOUS PIG Charlotte had her web looking fine for the occasion. Wilbur ate his breakfastslowly. He tried to look radiant without getting food in his ears. In thekitchen, Mrs. Zuckerman suddenly made an announcement. "Homer," she said to her husband, "I am going to give that pig abuttermilk bath." "A what?" said Mr. Zuckerman. "A buttermilk bath. My grandmother used to bathe her pig with buttermilkwhen it got dirty I just remembered." "Wilbur’snot dirty," said Mr. Zuckerman proudly. "He’s filthy behind the ears," said Mrs. Zuckerman. "Every timeLurvy slops him, the food runs down around the ears. Then it dries and forms a crust. He also has a smudge onone side where he lays in the manure." "Helays in clean straw," corrected Mr. Zuckerman. "Well, he’s dirty, and he’s going to have a bath." Mr. Zuckerman sat down weakly and ate a doughnut. His wife went to thewoodshed. When she returned, she wore rubber boots and an old raincoat, and she carried a bucketof buttermilk and a small wooden paddle. "Edith,you’re crazy," mumbled Zuckerman. But she paid no attention to him. Together they walked to the pigpen. Mrs.Zuckerman wasted no time. She climbed in with Wilbur and went to work. Dipping her paddle in thebuttermilk, she rubbed him all over. The geese gathered around to see the fun, and so did the sheepand lambs. Even Templeton poked his head out cautiously, to watch Wilbur get a buttermilk bath.Charlotte got so interested, she lowered herself on a dragline so she could see better. Wilburstood still and closed his eyes. He could feel the buttermilk trickling down his sides. He opened hismouth and some buttermilk ran in. It was delicious. He felt radiant and happy. When Mrs.Zuckerman got through and rubbed him dry, he was the cleanest, prettiest pig you ever saw. He was purewhite, pink around the ears and snout, and smooth as silk. TheZuckermans went up to change into their best clothes. Lurvy went to shave andput on his plaid shirt and his purple necktie. The animals were left to themselves in thebarn. Theseven goslings paraded round and round their mother. "Please, please, please take us to the Fair!" begged a gosling. Thenall seven began teasing to go. "Please, please, please, please, please, please …" They made quite aracket. "Children! " snapped the goose. "We’re stayingquietly-ietly-ietly at home. Only Wilbur-ilbur- ilbur is going to the Fair." Justthen Charlotte interrupted. "I shall go, too," she said, softly. "I have decided to go withWilbur. He may need me. We can’t tell what may happen at the Fair Grounds. Somebody’s got to go along who knowshow to write. And I think Templeton better come, too - I might need somebody to run errands anddo general work." "I’mstaying right here," grumbled the rat. "I haven’t the slightestinterest in fairs." "That’s because you’ve never been to one," remarked the old sheep."A fair is a rat’s paradise. Everybody spills food at a fair. A rat can creep out late at night and have afeast. In the horse barn you will find oats that the trotters and pacers have spilled. In the trampledgrass of the infield you will find old discarded lunch boxes containing the foul remains of peanutbutter sandwiches, hard- boiled eggs, cracker crumbs, bits of doughnuts, and particles of cheese. In thehard-packed dirt of the midway, after the glaring lights are out and the people have gone home to bed,you will find a veritabletreasure of popcorn fragments, frozen custard dribblings, candied applesabandoned by tired children, sugar fluff crystals, salted almonds, popsicles, partiallygnawed ice cream cones, and the wooden sticks of lollypops. Everywhere is loot for a rat - in tents, inbooths, in hay lofts - why, a fair has enough disgusting leftover food to satisfy a whole army of rats."Templeton’s eyes were blazing. "Isthis true?" he asked. "Is this appetizing yarn of yours true? I likehigh living, and what you say tempts me." "Itis true," said the old sheep. "Go to the Fair, Templeton. You willfind that the conditions at a fair will surpass your wildest dreams. Buckets with sour mash sticking to them,tin cans containing particles of tuna fish, greasy paper bags stuffed with rotten …" "That’senough!" cried Templeton. "Don’t tell me any more. I’m going." "Good," said Charlotte, winking at the old sheep. "Now then -there is no time to be lost. Wilbur will soon be put into the crate. Templeton and I must get in the crate rightnow and hide ourselves." Therat didn’t waste a minute. He scampered over to the crate, crawled between theslats, and pulled straw up over him so he was hidden from sight. "Allright," said Charlotte, "I’m next." She sailed into the air, letout a dragline, and dropped gently to the ground. Then she climbed the side of the crate and hid herselfinside a knothole in the top board. Theold sheep nodded. "What a cargo! " she said. "That sign ought tosay ’Zuckerman’s Famous Pig and Two Stowaways’." "Lookout, the people are coming-oming-oming!" shouted the gander. "Cheeseit, cheese it, cheese it!" Thebig truck with Mr. Arable at the wheel backed slowly down toward the barnyard.Lurvy and Mr. Zuckerman walked alongside. Fern and Avery were standing in the body of thetruck hanging on to the sideboards. "Listento me," whispered the old sheep to Wilbur. "When they open the crateand try to put you in, struggle! Don’t go without a tussle. Pigs always resist when they are beingloaded." "IfI struggle I’ll get dirty," said Wilbur. "Never mind that - do as I say! Struggle! If you were to walk into thecrate without resisting, Zuckerman might think you were bewitched. He’d be scared to go to theFair." Templetonpoked his head up through the straw. "Struggle if you must," said he,"but kindly remember that I’m hiding down here in this crate and I don’t want to be steppedon, or kicked in the face, or pummeled, or crushed in any way, or squashed, or buffeted about, orbruised, or lacerated, or scarred, or biffed. Just watch what you’re doing, Mr. Radiant, when they getshoving you in!" "Bequiet, Templeton!" said the sheep. "Pull in your head they’re coming.Look radiant, Wilbur! Lay low, Charlotte! Talk it up, geese!" Thetruck backed slowly to the pigpen and stopped. Mr. Arable cut the motor, gotout, walked around to the rear, and lowered the tailgate. The geese cheered. Mrs. Arablegot out of the truck. Fern and Avery jumped to the ground. Mrs. Zuckerman came walking down from thehouse. Everybody lined up at the fence and stood for a moment admiring Wilbur and the beautifulgreen crate. Nobody realized that the crate already contained a rat and a spider. "That’ssome pig!" said Mrs. Arable. "He’s terrific," said Lurvy. "He’s very radiant," said Fern, remembering the day he was born. "Well," said Mrs. Zuckerman, "he’s clean, anyway. The buttermilkcertainly helped." Mr.Arable studied Wilbur carefully. "Yes, he’s a wonderful pig," hesaid. "It’s hard to believe that he was the runt of the litter. You’ll get some extra good ham and bacon,Homer, when it comes time to kill that pig." Wilburheard these words and his heart almost stopped. "I think I’m going tofaint," he whispered to the old sheep, who was watching. "Kneeldown!" whispered the old sheep. "Let the blood rush to yourhead!" Wilbur sank to his knees, all radiance gone. His eyes closed. "Look!" screamed Fern. "He’s fading away!" "Hey, watch me!" yelled Avery, crawling on all fours into the crate."I’m a pig! I’m a pig!" Avery’s foot touched Templeton under the straw. "What a mess!"thought the rat. "What fantastic creatures boys are! Why did I let myself in for this?" Thegeese saw Avery in the crate and cheered. "Avery, you get out of that crate this instant!" commanded hismother. "What do you think you are?" "I’ma pig!" cried Avery, tossing handfuls of straw into the air. "Oink,oink, oink!" "The truck is rolling away, Papa," said Fern. The truck, with no one at the wheel, had started to roll downhill. Mr. Arabledashed to the driver’s seat and pulled on the emergency brake. The truck stopped. The geesecheered. Charlotte crouched and made herself as small as possible in the knothole, so Averywouldn’t see her. "Comeout at once!" cried Mrs. Arable. Avery crawled out of the crate on handsand knees, making faces at Wilbur. Wilbur fainted away. "Thepig has passed out," said Mrs. Zuckerman. "Throw water on him!" "Throw buttermilk!" suggested Avery. The geese cheered. Lurvy ran for a pail of water. Fern climbed into the pen and knelt by Wilbur’sside. "It’s sunstroke," said Zuckerman. "The heat is too much forhim." "Maybe he’s dead," said Avery. "Come out of that pigpen immediately!" cried Mrs. Arable. Averyobeyed his mother and climbed into the back of the truck so he could see better. Lurvy returned with coldwater and dashed it on Wilbur. "Throwsome on me!" cried Avery. "I’m hot, too." "Oh, keep quiet!" hollered Fern. "Keep qui-ut!" Her eyeswere brimming with tears. Wilbur, feeling the cold water, came to. He rose slowly to his feet, while thegeese cheered. "He’sup!" said Mr. Arable. "I guess there’s nothing wrong with him." "I’m hungry," said Avery. "I want a candied apple." "Wilbur’s all right now," said Fern. "We can start. I want totake a ride in the Ferris wheel." Mr. Zuckerman and Mr. Arable and Lurvy grabbed the pig and pushed him headfirsttoward the crate. Wilbur began to struggle. Theharder the men pushed, the harder he held back. Avery jumped down and joinedthe men. Wilbur kicked and thrashed and grunted. "Nothingwrong with this pig," said Mr. Zuckerman cheerfully, pressing his kneeagainst Wilbur’s behind. "All together, now, boys! Shove!" With afinal heave they jammed him into the crate. The geese cheered. Lurvy nailedsome boards across the end, so Wilbur couldn’t back out. Then, using all their strength,the men picked up the crate and heaved it aboard the truck. They did not know that under the straw was arat, and inside a knothole was a big grey spider. They saw only a pig. "Everybodyin!" called Mr. Arable. He started the motor. The ladies climbed in besidehim. Mr. Zuckerman and Lurvy and Fern and Avery rode in back, hanging onto thesideboards. The truck began to move ahead. The ge