The Egg Sac
NEXT morning when the first light came into
the sky and the sparrows stirred in the
trees, when the cows rattled their chains
and the rooster crowed and the early auto-
mobiles went whispering along the road, Wilbur awoke
and looked for Charlotte. He saw her up overhead in a
comer near the back of his pen. She was very quiet.
Her eight legs were spread wide. She seemed to have
shrunk during the night. Next to her, attached to the
ceiling, Wilbur saw a curious object. It was a sort of
sac, or cocoon. It was peach-colored and looked as
though it were made of cotton candy.
"Are you awake, Charlotte?" he said softly.
"Yes," came the answer.
"What is that nifty little thing? Did you make it? "
"I did indeed," replied Charlotte in a weak voice.
"Is it a plaything?"
"Plaything? I should say not. It is my egg sac, my
may;num opus."
"I don't know what a magnum opus is," said Wilbur.
"That's Latin," explained Charlotte. "It means
'great work.' This egg sac is my great work-the finest
thing I have ever made."
"What's inside it?" asked Wilbur. "Eggs?"
"Five hundred and fourteen of them," she replied.
"Five hundred and fourteen?" said Wilbur. "You're
kidding."
"No, I'm not. I counted them. I got started counting,
so I kept on-just to keep my mind occupied."
"It's a perfectly beautiful egg sac," said Wilbur,
feeling as happy as though he had constructed it him-
self.
"Yes, it is pretty," replied Charlotte, patting the sac
with her two front legs. "Anyway, I can guarantee that
it is strong. It's made out of the toughest material I
have. It is also waterproof. The eggs are inside and will
be warm and dry."
"Charlotte," said Wilbur dreamily, "are you really
going to have five hundred and founeen children?'·'
"If nothing happens, yes," she said. "Of course, they
won't show up till next spring." Wilbur noticed that
Charlotte's voice sounded sad.
"What makes you sound so down-hearted? I should
think you'd be terribly happy about this."
"Oh, don't pay any attention to me," said Charlotte.
"I just don't have much pep any more. I guess I feel sad
because I won't ever see my children."
"What do you mean you won't see your children!
Of course you will. We'll all see them. It's going to be
simply wonderful next spring in the barn cellar with
five hundred and fourteen baby spiders running around
all over the place. And the geese will have a new set of
goslings, and the sheep will have their new lambs ... "
"Maybe," said Charlotte quietly. "However, I have
a feeling I'm not going to see the results of last night's
efforts. I don't feel good at all. I think I'm languishing,
to tell you the truth."
Wilbur didn't understand the word "languish" and
he hated to bother Charlotte by asking her to explain.
But he was so worried he felt he had to ask.
"What does 'languishing' mean?"
"It means I'm slowing up, feeling my age. I'm not
young any more, Wilbur. But I don't want you to
worry about me. This is your big day today. Look at
my web-doesn't it show up well with the dew on it? "
Charlotte's web never looked more beautiful than it
looked this morning. Each strand held dozens of bright
drops of early morning dew. The light from the east
struck it and made it all plain and clear. It was a perfect
piece of designing and building. In another hour or
two, a steady stream of people would pass by, admiring
it, and reading it, and looking at Wilbur, and marvel-
ing at the miracle.
As Wilbur was studying the web, a pair of whiskers
and a sharp face appeared. Slowly Templeton dragged
himself across the pen and threw himself down in a
corner.
"I'm back," he said in a husky voice. "What a night!"
The rat was swollen to twice his normal size. His
stomach was as big around as a jelly jar.
"What a night! " he repeated, hoarsely. "What feast-
ing and carousing! A real gorge! I must have eaten the
remains of thirty lunches. Never have I seen such leav-
ings, and everything well-ripened and seasoned with
the passage of time and the heat of the day. Oh, it was
rich, my friends, rich! "
"You ought to be ashamed of yourself," said Char-
lotte in disgust. "It would serve you right if you had an
acute attack of indigestion."
"Don't worry about my stomach," snarled Temple-
ton. "It can handle anything. And by the way, I've got
some bad news. As I came past that pig next door-the
one that calls himself Uncle-1 noticed a blue tag on
the front of his pen. That means he has won first prize.
I guess you're licked, Wilbur. You might as well relax
-nobody is going to hang any medal on you. Further-
more, I wouldn't be surprised if Zuckerman changes
his mind about you. Wait till he gets hankering for
some fresh pork and smoked ham and crisp bacon! He'll
take the knife to you, my boy."
"Be still, Templeton!" said Charlotte. "You're too
stuffed and bloated to know what you're saying. Don't
pay any attention to him, Wilbur! "
Wilbur tried not to think about what the rat had just
said. He decided to change the subject.
"Templeton," said Wilbur, "if you weren't so dopey,
you would have noticed that Charlotte has made an egg sac. She is going to become a mother. For your infor-
mation, there are five hundred and fourteen eggs in that
peachy little sac."
"Is this true?" asked the rat, eyeing the sac suspi-
ciously.
"Yes, it's true," sighed Charlotte.
"Congratulations! " murmured Templeton. "This has
been a night! " He closed his eyes, pulled some straw
over himself, and dropped off into a deep sleep. Wil-
bur and Charlotte were glad to be rid of him for a
while.
At nine o'clock, Mr. Arable's truck rolled into the
Fair Grounds and came to a stop at Wilbur's pen.
Everybody climbed out.
"Look! " cried Fern. "Look at Charlotte's web! Look
what it says! "
The grownups and the children joined hands and
stood there, studying the new sign.
" 'Humble,' " said Mr. Zuckerman. "Now isn't that
just the word for Wilbur!"
Everyone rejoiced to find that the miracle of the web
had been repeated. Wilbur gazed up lovingly into their
faces. He looked very humble and very grateful. Fern
winked at Charlotte. Lurvy soon got busy. He poured
a bucket of warm slops into the trough, and while Wilbur ate his breakfast Lurvy scratched him gently with
a smooth stick.
"Wait a minute!" cried Avery. "Look at this! " He
pointed to the blue tag on Uncle's pen. "This pig has
won first prize already."
The Zuckermans and the Arables stared at the tag.
1lrs. Zuckerman began to cry. Nobody said a word.
They just stared at the tag. Then they stared at Uncle.
Then they stared at the tag again. Lurvy took out an
enormous handkerchief and blew his nose very loud-
so loud, in fact, that the noise was heard by stableboys
over at the horse barn.
"Can I have some money?" asked Fern. "I want to
go out on the midway."
"You stay right where you are!" said her mother.
Tears came to F em's eyes.
"What's everybody crying about?" asked Mr. Zuck-
erman. "Let's get busy! Edith, bring the buttermilk! "
Mrs. Zuckerman wiped her eyes with her handker-
chief. She went to the truck and came back with a gal-
lon jar of buttermilk.
"Bath time!" said Zuckerman, cheerfully. He and
Mrs. Zuckerman and Avery climbed into Wilbur's pen.
Avery slowly poured buttermilk on Wilbur's head and
back, and as it trickled down his sides and cheeks, Mr.
and Mrs. Zuckerman rubbed it into his hair and skin.
Passersby stopped to watch. Pretty soon quite a crowd had gathered. Wilbur grew beautifully white and
smooth. The morning sun shone through his pink ears.
"He isn't as big as that pig next door," remarked one
bystander, "but he's cleaner. That's what I like."
"So do I," said another man.
"He's humble, too," said a woman, reading the sign
on the web.
Everybody who visited the pigpen had a good word
to say about Wilbur. Everyone admired the web. And
of course nobody noticed Charlotte.
Suddenly a voice was heard on the loud speaker.
"Attention, please!" it said. "Will Mr. Homer Zuck-
erman bring his famous pig to the judges' booth in front
of the grandstand. A special award will be made there
in twenty minutes. Everyone is invited to attend. Crate
your pig, please, Mr. Zuckerman, and report to the
judges' booth promptly!"
For a moment after this announcement, the Arables
and the Zuckermans were unable to speak or move.
Then Avery picked up a handful of straw and threw it
high in the air and gave a loud yell. The straw fluttered
down like confetti into Fern's hair. Mr. Zuckerman
hugged Mrs. Zuckerman. Mr. Arable kissed Mrs. Ara-
ble. Avery kissed Wilbur. Lurvy shook hands with
everybody. Fern hugged her mother. Avery hugged
Fern. Mrs. Arable hugged Mrs. Zuckerman.
Up overhead, in the shadows of the ceiling, Charlotte crouched unseen, her front legs encircling her egg
sac. Her heart was not beating as strongly as usual and
she felt weary and old, but she was sure at last that she
had saved Wilbur's life, and she felt peaceful and con-
tented.
"We have no time to lose! " shouted Mr. Zucker-
man. "Lurvy, help with the crate!"
"Can I have some money?" asked Fern.
"You wait! " said Mrs. Arable. "Can't you see every-
body is busy?"
"Put that empty buttermilk jar into the truck!" com-
manded Mr. Arable. A very grabbed the jar and rushed
to the truck.
"Does my hair look all right?" asked Mrs. Zucker-
man.
"Looks fine," snapped Mr. Zuckerman, as he and
Lurvy set the crate down in front of Wilbur.
"You didn't even look at my hair! " said Mrs. Zuck-
erman.
"You're all right, Edith," said Mrs. Arable. "Just
keep calm."
Templeton, asleep in the straw, heard the commo-
tion and awoke. He didn't know exactly what was
going on, but when he saw the men shoving Wilbur
into the crate he made up his mind to go along. He
watched his chance and when no one was looking he crept into the crate and buried himself in the straw at
the bottom.
"All ready, boys! " cried Mr. Zuckerman. "Let's go!"
He and Mr. Arable and Lurvy and Avery grabbed the
crate and boosted it over the side of the pen and up
into the truck. Fern jumped aboard and sat on top of
the crate. She still had straw in her hair and looked very
pretty and excited. Mr. Arable started the motor.
Everyone climbed in, and off they drove to the judge's
booth in front of the grandstand.
As they passed the Ferris wheel, Fern gazed up at it
and wished she were in the topmost car with Henry
Fussy at her side.