介绍:
CHAPTER13 Good Progress
Far into the night, while the other creatures slept, Charlotte worked on herweb. First she ripped
out a few of the orb lines near the center. She left the radial lines alone, asthey were needed for
support. As she worked, her eight legs were a great help to her. So were herteeth. She loved to
weave and she was an expert at it. When she was finished ripping things out,her web looked
something like this:
Note:Similar to a wagon wheel with spokes
A spider can produce several kinds of thread. She uses a dry, tough thread forfoundation lines,
and she uses a sticky thread for snare lines - the ones that catch and holdinsects.
Charlottedecided to use her dry thread for writing the new message.
"IfI write the word ’Terrific’ with sticky thread," she thought, "everybug that comes along will
get stuck in it and spoil the effect."
"Nowlet’s see, the first letter is T."
Charlotte climbed to a point at the top of the left hand side of the web.Swinging her spinnerets
into position, she attached her thread and then dropped down. As she dropped,her spinning tubes
went into action and she let out thread. At the bottom, she attached thethread. This formed the upright
part of the letter T. Charlotte was not satisfied, however. She climbed up andmade another
attachment, right next to the first. Then she carried the line down, so thatshe had a double line instead
of a single line. "It will show up better if I make the whole thing withdouble lines."
Sheclimbed back up, moved over about an inch to the left, touched her spinneretsto the web, and
then carried a line across to the right, forming the top of the T. She repeatedthis, making it double.
Her eight legs were very busy helping.
"Nowfor the E! " Charlotte got so interested in her work, she began to talk toherself, as though to
cheer herself on. If you had been sitting quietly in the barn cellar thatevening, you would have heard
something like this:
"Nowfor the R! Up we go! Attach! Descend! Pay out line!
Whoa! Attach! Good! Up you go! Repeat! Attach! Descend! Pay out line. Whoa,girl! Steady now!
Attach! Climb! Attach! Over to the right! Pay out line! Attach! Now right anddown and swing that
loop and around and around! Now in to the left! Attach! Climb!
Repeat!O.K.! Easy, keep those lines together! Now, then, out and down for the leg ofthe R! Pay
out line! Whoa! Attach! Ascend!
Repeat!Good girl!"
And so, talking to herself, the spider worked at her difficult task. When itwas completed, she felt
hungry. She ate a small bug that she had been saving. Then she slept.
Nextmorning, Wilbur arose and stood beneath the web. He breathed the morning airinto his
lungs. Drops of dew, catching the sun, made the web stand out clearly. WhenLurvy arrived with
breakfast, there was the handsome pig, and over him, woven neatly in blockletters, was the word
TERRIFIC. Another miracle.
Lurvyrushed and called Mr. Zuckerman. Mr. Zuckerman rushed and called Mrs.Zuckerman. Mrs.
Zuckerman ran to the phone and called the Arables. The Arables climbed intotheir truck and hurried
over. Everybody stood at the pigpen and stared at the web and read the word,over and over, while
Wilbur, who really felt terrific, stood quietly swelling out his chest andswinging his snout from side
toside.
"Terrific!"breathed Zuckerman, in joyful admiration. "Edith, you better phone thereporter on the
Weekly Chronicle and tell him what has happened.He will want to know about this.
He maywant to bring a photographer. There isn’t a pig in the whole state that is asterrific as our
pig."
Thenews spread. People who had journeyed to see Wilbur when he was "somepig" came back
again to see him now that he was "terrific."
Thatafternoon, when Mr. Zuckerman went to milk the cows and clean out the tie-ups,he was still
thinking about what a wondrous pig he owned.
"Lurvy!" he called. "There is to be no more cow manure thrown down into thatpigpen. I have a
terrific pig. I want that pig to have clean, bright straw every day for hisbedding. Understand?"
"Yes,sir," said Lurvy.
"Furthermore," said Mr. Zuckerman, "I want you to start buildinga crate for Wilbur. I have
decided to take the pig to the County Fair on September sixth. Make the cratelarge and paint it green
with gold letters!"
"Whatwill the letters say?" asked Lurvy.
"They should say Zuckerman’s Famous Pig."
Lurvy picked up a pitchfork and walked away to get some clean straw. Havingsuch an important
pig was going to mean plenty of extra work, he could see that.
Belowthe apple orchard, at the end of a path, was the dump where Mr. Zuckerman threwall sorts
of trash and stuff that nobody wanted any more. Here, in a small clearinghidden by young alders and
wild raspberry bushes, was an astonishing pile of old bottles and empty tincans and dirty rags and
bits of metal and broken bottles and broken hinges and broken springs and deadbatteries and last
month’s magazines and old discarded dishmops and tattered overalls and rustyspikes and leaky pails
and forgotten stoppers and useless junk of all kinds, including a wrong-sizecrank for a broken ice-
cream freezer.
Templetonknew the dump and liked it. There were good hiding places there - excellentcover for
a rat. And there was usually a tin can with food still clinging to the inside.
Templetonwas down there now, rummaging around. When he returned to the barn, he carriedin
his mouth an advertisement he had torn from a crumpled magazine.
"How’sthis?" he asked, showing the ad to Charlotte. "It says’Crunchy." ’Crunchy’ would be a
good word to write in your web."
"Justthe wrong idea," replied Charlotte. "Couldn’t be worse. We don’t wantZuckerman to think
Wilbur is crunchy. He might start thinking about crisp, crunchy bacon and tastyham. That would put
ideas into his head. We must advertise Wilbur’s noble qualities, not histastiness. Go get another
word, please, Templeton!"
Therat looked disgusted. But he sneaked away to the dump and was back in a whilewith a strip
of cotton cloth. "How’s this?" he asked. "It’s a label off anold shirt."
Charlotteexamined the label. It said PRESHRUNK.
"I’m sorry, Templeton," she said, "but ’Pre-shrunk’ is out ofthe question. We want Zuckerman to
think Wilbur is nicely filled out, not all shrunk up. I’ll have to ask you totry again."
"Whatdo you think I am, a messenger boy?" grumbled the rat.
"I’m not going to spend all my time chasing down to the dump afteradvertising material."
"Just once more - please!" said Charlotte.
"I’ll tell you what I’ll do," said Templeton. "I know wherethere’s a package of soap flakes in the
woodshed. It has writing on it. I’ll bring you a piece of the package."
Heclimbed the rope that hung on the wall and disappeared through a hole in theceiling. When he
came back he had a strip of blue-and-white cardboard in his teeth.
"There!"he said, triumphantly. "How’s that?"
Charlotte read the words: "With New Radiant Action."
"What does it mean?" asked Charlotte, who had never used any soapflakes in her life.
"How should I know?" said Templeton. "You asked for words and Ibrought them. I suppose the
next thing you’ll want me to fetch is a dictionary."
Togetherthey studied the soap ad. "’With new radiant action,’" repeatedCharlotte, slowly.
"Wilbur!"she called.
Wilbur,who was asleep in the straw, jumped up. "Run around!" commandedCharlotte. "I want to
see you in action, to see if you are radiant." Wilbur raced to the end ofhis yard.
"Nowback again, faster!" said Charlotte.
Wilbur galloped back. His skin shone. His tail had a fine, tight curl in it.
"Jump into the air!" cried Charlotte.
Wilbur jumped as high as he could.
"Keep your knees straight and touch the ground with your ears!"called Charlotte.
Wilburobeyed.
"Do a back flip with a half twist in it!" cried Charlotte.
Wilbur went over backwards, writhing and twisting as he went.
"O.K., Wilbur," said Charlotte. "You can go back to sleep. O.K.,Templeton, the soap ad will do,
I guess. I’m not sure Wilbur’s action is exactly radiant, but it’sinteresting."
"Actually,"said Wilbur, "I feel radiant."
"Do you?" said Charlotte, looking at him with affection. "Well,you’re a good little pig, and
radiantyou shall be. I’m in this thing pretty deep now - I might as well go thelimit."
Tiredfrom his romp, Wilbur lay down in the clean straw. He closed his eyes. Thestraw seemed
scratchy - not as comfortable as the cow manure, which was always delightfullysoft to lie in. So he
pushed the straw to one side and stretched out in the manure. Wilbur sighed. Ithad been a busy day -
his first day of being terrific. Dozens of people had visited his yard duringthe afternoon, and he had
had to stand and pose, looking as terrific as he could. Now he was tired. Fernhad arrived and seated
herself quietly on her stool in the corner.
"Tellme a story, Charlotte!" said Wilbur, as he lay waiting for sleep to come."Tell me a story!"
So Charlotte, although she, too, was tired, did what Wilbur wanted.
"Once upon a time," she began, "I had a beautiful cousin whomanaged to build her web across a
small stream. One day a tiny fish leaped into the air and got tangled in theweb. My cousin was very
much surprised, of course. The fish was thrashing wildly. My cousin hardlydared tackle it. But she
did. She swooped down and threw great masses of wrapping material around thefish and fought
bravely to capture it."
"Didshe succeed?" asked Wilbur.
"It was a never-to-be-forgotten battle," said Charlotte. "Therewas the fish, caught only by one
fin, and its tail wildly thrashing and shining in the sun. There was the web,sagging dangerously under
the weight of the fish."
"Howmuch did the fish weigh?" asked Wilbur eagerly.
"I don’t know," said Charlotte. "There was my cousin, slippingin, dodging out, beaten
mercilessly over the head by the wildly thrashing fish, dancing in, dancingout, throwing her threads
and fighting hard. First she threw a left around the tail. The fish lashedback. Then a left to the tail
and aright to the mid section. The fish lashed back. Then she dodged to one side andthrew a right,
and another right to the fin. Then a hard left to the head, while the webswayed and stretched."
"Thenwhat happened?" asked Wilbur.
"Nothing," said Charlotte. "The fish lost the fight. My cousinwrapped it up so tight it couldn’t
budge."
"Thenwhat happened?" asked Wilbur.
"Nothing," said Charlotte. "My cousin kept the fish for a while,and then, when she got good and
ready, she ate it."
"Tellme another story!" begged Wilbur.
So Charlotte told him about another cousin of hers who was an aeronaut.
"What is an aeronaut?" asked Wilbur.
"A balloonist," said Charlotte. "My cousin used to stand on herhead and let out enough thread to
form a balloon. Then she’d let go and be lifted into the air and carried upwardon the warm wind."
"Isthat true?" asked Wilbur. "Or are you just making it up?"
"It’s true," replied Charlotte. "I have some very remarkablecousins. And now, Wilbur, it’s time
you went to sleep."
"Singsomething!" begged Wilbur, closing his eyes.
So Charlotte sang a lullaby, while crickets chirped in the grass and the barngrew dark. This was
the song she sang.
"Sleep,sleep, my love, my only,
Deep, deep, in the dung and the dark;
Be not afraid and be not lonely!
This is the hour when frogs and thrushes
Praise the world from the woods and the rushes.
Rest from care, my one and only,
Deep in the dung and the dark!"
But Wilbur was already asleep. When the song ended, Fern got up and went home.
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