The Cool of the Evening
IN THE cool of the evening, when shadows dark-
ened the Fair Grounds, Templeton crept from the
crate and looked around. Wilbur lay asleep in the
straw. Charlotte was building a web. Templeton's
keen nose detected many fine smells in the air. The rat
was hungry and thirsty. He decided to go exploring.
Without saying anything to anybody, he started off.
"Bring me back a word! " Charlotte called after him.
"I shall be writing tonight for the last time.''
The rat mumbled something to himself and disap-
peared into the shadows. He did not like being treated
like a messenger boy.
After the heat of the day, the evening came as a wel-
come relief to all. The Ferris wheel was lighted now. It
went round and round in the sky and seemed twice as
high as by day. There were lights on the midway, and
you could hear the crackle of the gambling machines
and the music of the merry-go-round and the voice of
the man in the beano booth calling numbers.
The children felt refreshed after their nap. Fern met her friend Henry Fussy, and he invited her to ride with
him in the Ferris wheel. He even bought a ticket for
her, so it didn't cost her anything. When Mrs. Arable
happened to look up into the starry sky and saw her
little daughter sitting with Henry Fussy and going
higher and higher into the air, and saw how happy Fern
looked, she just shook her head. ".My, my!" she said.
"Henry Fussy. Think of that!"
Templeton kept out of sight. In the tall grass behind
the cattle barn he found a folded newspaper. Inside it
were leftovers from somebody's lunch: a deviled ham
sandwich, a piece of Swiss cheese, part of a hard-boiled
egg, and the core of a wormy apple. The rat crawled
in and ate everything. Then he tore a word out of the
paper, rolled it up, and started back to Wilbur's pen.
Charlotte had her web almost finished when Temple-
ton returned, carrying the newspaper clipping. She had
left a space in the middle of the web. At this hour, no
people were around the pigpen, so the rat and the
spider and the pig were by themselves.
"I hope you brought a good one," Charlotte said. "It
is the last word I shall ever write."
"Here," said Templeton, unrolling the paper.
"What does it say?" asked Charlotte. "You'll have to
read it for me."
"It says 'Humble,' " replied the rat.
"Humble? " said Charlotte. " 'Humble' has two
meanings. It means 'not proud' and it means 'near the
ground.' That's Wilbur all over. He's not proud and
he's near the ground.''
"Well, I hope you're satisfied,'' sneered the rat. "I'm
not going to spend all my time fetching and carrying.
I came to this Fair to enjoy myself, not to deliver pa-
pers.''
"You've been very helpful," Charlotte said. "Run
along, if you want to see more of the Fair.''
The rat grinned. "I'm going to make a night of it,"
he said. "The old sheep was right-this Fair is a rat's
paradise. What eating! And what drinking! And every-
where good hiding and good hunting. Bye, bye, my
humble Wilbur! Fare thee well, Charlotte, you old
schemer! This will be a night to remember in a rat's
life."
He vanished into the shadows.
Charlotte went back to her work. It was quite dark
now. In the distance, fireworks began going off-rock-
ets, scattering fiery balls in the sky. By the time the Arables and the Zuckennans and Lurvy returned from
the grandstand, Charlotte had finished her web. The
word HUMBLE was woven neatly in the center. No-
body noticed it in the darkness. Everyone was tired
and happy.
Fern and A very climbed into the truck and lay
down. They pulled the Indian blanket over them.
Lurvy gave Wilbur a forkful of fresh straw. Mr.
Arable patted him. "Time for us to go home," he said
to the pig. "See you tomorrow."
The grownups climbed slowly into the truck and
Wilbur heard the engine start and then heard the truck
moving away in low speed. He would have felt lonely
and homesick, had Charlotte not been with him. He never felt lonely when she was near. In the distance he
could still hear the music of the merry-go-round.
As he was dropping off to sleep he spoke to Char-
lotte.
"Sing me that song again, about the dung and the
dark," he begged.
"Not tonight," she said in a low voice. "I'm too
tired." Her voice didn't seem to come from her web.
"Where are you? " asked Wilbur. "I can't see you.
A re you on your '"'e b.� ,
"I'm back here," she answered. "Up in this back cor-
ner."
"Why aren't you on your web? " asked Wilbur.
"You almost never leave your web."
"I've left it tonight," she said.
Wilbur closed his eyes. "Charlotte," he said, after a
while, "do you really think Zuckerman will let me live
and not kill me when the cold weather comes? Do you
really think so?"
"Of course," said Charlotte. "You are a famous pig
and you are a good pig. Tomorrow you will probably
win a prize. The whole world will hear about you.
Zuckerman will be proud and happy to own such a pig.
You have nothing to fear, Wilbur-nothing to worry
about. Maybe you'll live forever-who knows? And
now, go to sleep."
For a while there was no sound. Then Wilbur's
VOICe: "What are you doing up there, Charlotte?"
"Oh, making something," she said. "Making some-
h
.
t mg, as usua I" .
"Is it something for me? " asked Wilbur.
"No," said Charlotte. "It's something for me, for a
change."
"Please tell me what it is," begged Wilbur.
"I'll tell you in the morning," she said. "When the
first light comes into the sky and the sparrows stir and
the cows rattle their chains, when the rooster crows
and the stars fade, when early cars whisper along the
highway, you look up here and I'll show you some-
thing. I will show you my masterpiece."
Before she finished the sentence, Wilbur was asleep.
She could tell by the sound of his breathing that he was
sleeping peacefully, deep in the straw.
Miles away, at the Arables' house, the men sat around
the kitchen table eating a dish of canned peaches and
talking over the events of the day. Upstairs, Avery was
already in bed and asleep. Mrs. Arable was tucking
F em into bed.
"Did you have a good time at the Fair?" she asked as
she kissed her daughter.
Fern nodded. "I had the best time I have ever had
anywhere or any time in all of my whole life."
"Well!" said Mrs. Arable. "Isn't that nice! "