A Meeting
ONE EVENING, a few days after the writ-
ing had appeared in Charlotte's web, the
spider called a meeting of all the animals
in the bam cellar.
"I shall begin by calling the roll. Wilbur?"
"Here!" said the pig.
"Gander?"
"Here, here, here!" said the gander.
"You sound like three ganders," muttered Char-
lotte. "Why can't you just say 'here'? Why do you
have to repeat everything?"
"It's my idio-idio-idiosyncrasy," replied the gander.
"Goose?" said Charlotte.
"Here, here, here! " said the goose. Charlotte glared
at her.
"Goslings, one through seven?"
"Bee-bee-bee!" "Bee-bee-bee!" "Bee-bee-bee!"
"Bee-bee-bee!" "Bee-bee-bee!" "Bee-bee-bee!" "Bee-
bee-bee! " said the goslings.
"This is getting to be quite a meeting," said Charlotte.
"Anybody would think we had three ganders, three
geese, and twenty-one goslings. Sheep?"
"He-aa-aa!" answered the sheep all together.
"Lambs? "
"He-aa-aa!" answered the lambs all together.
"Templeton?"
No answer.
"Templeton?"
No answer.
"Well, we are all here except the rat," said Charlotte.
"I guess we can proceed without him. Now, all of you
must have noticed what's been going on around here the
last few days. The message I wrote in my web, praising
Wilbur, has been received. The Zuckermans have fallen
for it, and so has everybody else. Zuckerman thinks
Wilbur is an unusual pig, and therefore he won't want
to kill him and eat him. I dare say my trick will work
and Wilbur's life can be saved.
"Hurray! " cried everybody.
"Thank you very much," said Charlotte. "Now I
called this meeting in order to get suggestions. I need
new ideas for the web. People are already getting sick
of reading the words 'Some Pig!' If anybody can think
of another message, or remark, I'll be glad to weave it
into the web. Any suggestions for a new slogan?"
"How about 'Pig Supreme'?" asked one of the lambs.
"No good," said Charlotte. "It sounds like a rich des-
sert."
"How about 'Terrific, terrific, terrific'?" asked the
goose.
"Cut that down to one 'terrific' and it will do very
nicely," said Charlotte. "I think 'terrific' might impress
Zuckerman."
"But Charlotte," said Wilbur, "I'm not terrific."
"That doesn't make a particle of difference," replied
Charlotte. "Not a particle. People believe almost any-
thing they see in print. Does anybody here know how
to spell 'terrific'?"
"I think," said the gander, "it's tee double ee double
rr double rr double eye double ff double eye double see
see see see see."
"What kind of an acrobat do you think I am?" said
Charlotte in disgust. "I would have to have St. Vitus's
Dance to weave a word like that into my web."
"Sorry, sorry, sorry," said the gander.
Then the oldest sheep spoke up. "I agree that there
should be something new written in the web if Wilbur's
life is to be saved. And if Charlotte needs help in finding
words, I think she can get it from our friend Templeton.
The rat visits the dump regularly and has access to old
magazines. He can tear out bits of advertisements and
bring them up here to the barn cellar, so that Charlotte
can have something to copy."
"Good idea," said Charlotte. "But I'm not sure Tem-
pleton will be willing to help. You know how he is-
always looking out for himself, never thinking of the
other fellow."
"I bet I can get him to help," said the old sheep. "I'll appeal to his baser instincts, of which he has plenty.
Here he comes now. Everybody keep quiet while I put
the matter up to him!"
The rat entered the barn the way he always did-
creeping along close to the wall.
"What's up? " he asked, seeing the animals assembled.
"We're holding a directors' meeting," replied the
old sheep.
"Well, break it up!" said Templeton. "Meetings
bore me." And the rat began to climb a rope that hung
against the wall.
"Look," said the old sheep, "next time you go to
the dump, Templeton, bring back a clipping from a
magazine. Charlotte needs new ideas so she can write
messages in her web and save Wilbur's life."
"Let him die," said the rat. "I should worry."
"You'll worry all right when next winter comes,"
said the sheep. "You'll worry all right on a zero morn-
ing next January when Wilbur is dead and nobody
comes down here with a nice pail of warm slops to pour
into the trough. Wilbur's leftover food is your chief
source of supply, Templeton. You know that. Wilbur's
food is your food; therefore Wilbur's destiny and your
destiny are closely linked. If Wilbur is killed and his
trough stands empty day after day, you'll grow so thin
we can look right through your stomach and see objects
on the other side."
Templeton's whiskers quivered.
"Maybe you're right," he said gruffly. "I'm making
a trip to the dump tomorrow afternoon. I'll bring back
a magazine clipping if I can find one."
"Thanks," said Charlotte. "The meeting is now ad-
journed. I have a busy evening ahead of me. I've got
to tear my web apart and write 'Terrific.' "
Wilbur blushed. "But I'm not terrific, Charlotte.
I'm just about average for a pig."
"You're terrific as far as I'm concerned," replied
Charlotte, sweetly, "and that's what counts. You're my
best friend, and I think you're sensational. Now stop
arguing and go get some sleep! "