Uncle
WEN they pulled into the Fair
Grounds, they could hear music and
see the Ferris wheel turning in the
sky. They could smell the dust of the
race track where the sprinkling cart had moistened it;
and they could smell hamburgers frying and see bal-
loons aloft. They could hear sheep blatting in their
pens. An enormous voice over the loudspeaker said:
"Attention, please! Will the owner of a Pontiac car,
license number H-2439, please move your car away
from the fireworks shed!"
"Can I have some money? " asked Fern.
"Can I, too?" asked Avery.
"I'm going to win a doll by spinning a wheel and it
will stop at the right number," said Fern.
"I'm going to steer a jet plane and make it bump into
another one."
"Can I have a balloon?" asked Fern.
"Can I have a frozen custard and a cheeseburger and
some raspberry soda pop?" asked Avery.
"You children be quiet till we get the pig unloaded,"
said Mrs. Arable.
"Let's let the children go off by themselves," sug-
gested Mr. Arable. "The Fair only comes once a year."
Mr. Arable gave Fern two quarters and two dimes. He
gave Avery five dimes and four nickels. "Now run
along!" he said. "And remember, the money has to last
all day. Don't spend it all the first few minutes. And be
back here at the truck at noontime so we can all have
lunch together. And don't eat a lot of stuff that's going
to make you sick to your stomachs."
"And if you go in those swings," said Mrs. Arable,
"you hang on tight! You hang on very tight. Hear me? "
"And don't get lost! " said Mrs. Zuckerman.
"And don't get dirty! "
"Don't get overheated! " said their mother .
.. Watch out for pickpockets!" cautioned their fa-
ther.
"And don't cross the race track when the horses are
coming! " cried Mrs. Zuckerman.
The children grabbed each other by the hand and
danced off in the direction of the merry-go-round,
toward the wonderful music and the wonderful adven-
ture and the wonderful excitement, into the wonderful
midway where there would be no parents to guard them
and guide them, and where they could be happy and
free and do as they pleased. Mrs. Arable stood quietly and watched them go. Then she sighed. Then she blew
her nose.
"Do you really think it's all right? " she asked.
"Well, they've got to grow up some time," said Mr.
Arable. "And a fair is a good place to start, I guess."
While Wilbur was being unloaded and taken out of
his crate and into his new pigpen, crowds gathered to
watch. They stared at the sign ZUCKERMAN'S FA-
MOUS PIG. Wilbur stared back and tried to look
extra good. He was pleased with his new home. The
pen was grassy, and it was shaded from the sun by a
shed roof.
Charlotte, watching her chance, scrambled out of
the crate and climbed a post to the under side of the
roof. Nobody noticed her.
Templeton, not wishing to come out in broad day-
light, stayed quietly under the straw at the bottom of
the crate. Mr. Zuckerman poured some skim milk into
Wilbur's trough, pitched clean straw into his pen, and
then he and Mrs. Zuckerman and the Arables walked
away toward the cattle bam to look at purebred cows
and to see the sights. Mr. Zuckerman particularly
wanted to look at tractors. Mrs. Zuckerman wanted to
see a deep freeze. Lurvy wandered off by himself, hop-
ing to meet friends and have some fun on the midway As soon as the people were gone, Charlotte spoke to
Wilbur.
"It's a good thing you can't see what I see," she said.
"What do you see?" asked Wilbur.
"There's a pig in the next pen and he's enormous.
I'm afraid he's much bigger than you are."
"Maybe he's older than I am, and has had more time
to grow," suggested Wilbur. Tears began to come to
his eyes.
"I'll drop down and have a closer look," Charlotte
said. Then she crawled along a beam till she was di-
rectly over the next pen. She let herself down on a drag-
line until she hung in the air just in front of the big
pig's snout.
"May I have your name?" she asked, politely.
The pig stared at her. "No name," he said in a big,
hearty voice. "Just call me Uncle."
"Very well, Unclel' replied Charlotte. "What is the
date of your birth? Axe you a spring pig? "
"Sure I'm a spring pig," replied Uncle. "What did
you think I was, a spring chicken? Haw, haw-that's a
good one, eh, Sister? "
"Mildly funny," said Charlotte. "I've heard funnier
ones, though. Glad to have met you, and now I must be
. , gomg.
She ascended slowly and returned to Wilbur's pen.
"He claims he's a spring pig," reported Charlotte,
"and perhaps he is. One thing is certain, he has a most
unattractive personality. He is too familiar, too noisy,
and he cracks weak jokes. Also, he's not anywhere near
as clean as you are, nor as pleasant. I took quite a dis-
like to him in our brief interview. He's going to be a
hard pig to beat, though, Wilbur, on account of his size
and weight. But with me helping you, it can be done."
"When are you going to spin a web?" asked Wilbur.
"This afternoon, late, if I'm not too tired," said
Charlotte. "The least thing tires me these days. I don't
seem to have the energy I once had. My age, I guess."
Wilbur looked at his friend. She looked rather swol-
len and she seemed listless.
"I'm awfully sorry to hear that you're feeling poorly,
Charlotte," he said. "Perhaps if you spin a web and
catch a couple of flies you'll feel better."
"Perhaps," she said, wearily. "But I feel like the end
of a long day." Clinging upside down to the ceiling, she
settled down for a nap, leaving Wilbur very much wor-
ried.
All morning people wandered past Wilbur's pen.
Dozens and dozens of strangers stopped to stare at him
and to admire his silky white coat, his curly tail, his kind
and radiant expression. Then they would move on to
the next pen where the bigger pig lay. Wilbur heard
several people make favorable remarks about Uncle's
great size. He couldn't help overhearing these remarks,
and he couldn't help worrying. "And now, with Char-
lotte not feeling well •.. " he thought. "Oh, dear! "
All morning Templeton slept quietly under the
straw. The day grew fiercely hot. At noon the Zucker-
mans and the Arables returned to the pigpen. Then, a
few minutes later, Fern and Avery showed up. Fern
had a monkey doll in her arms and was eating Cracker-
jack. Avery had a balloon tied to his ear and was chew-
ing a candied apple. The children were hot and dirty. "Isn't it hot?" said Mrs. Zuckerman.
"It's terribly hot," said Mrs. Arable, fanning herself
with an advenisement of a deep freeze.
One by one they climbed into the truck and opened
lunch boxes. The sun beat down on everything. No-
body seemed hungry.
"When are the judges going to decide about Wil-
bur?" asked Mrs. Zuckerman.
"Not till tomorrow," said Mr. Zuckerman.
Lurvy appeared, carrying an Indian blanket that he
had won.
"That's just what we need," said Avery. "A blanket."
"Of course it is," replied Lurvy. And he spread the
blanket across the sideboards of the truck so that it was
like a little tent. The children sat in the shade, under the
blanket, and felt better.
After lunch, they stretched out and fell asleep.