Charlotte's Web by E. B. White Page B

rat was hungry and thirsty. He decided to go exploring. Without saying anything to anybody, he started off.
    â€œBring me back a word!” Charlotte called after him. “I shall be writing tonight for the last time.”
    The rat mumbled something to himself and disappeared into the shadows. He did not like being treated like a messenger boy.
    After the heat of the day, the evening came as a welcome 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 mether 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 Templeton 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.
    â€œI hope you brought a good one,” Charlotte said. “It is the last word I shall ever write.”
    â€œHere,” said Templeton, unrolling the paper.
    â€œWhat does it say?” asked Charlotte. “You’ll have to read it for me.”
    â€œIt says ‘Humble,’” replied the rat.
    â€œHumble?” 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.”
    â€œWell, 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 papers.”
    â€œYou’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 everywhere 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—rockets, scattering fiery balls in the sky. By the time theArables and the Zuckermans and Lurvy returned from the grandstand, Charlotte had finished her web. The word HUMBLE was woven neatly in the center. Nobody noticed it in the darkness. Everyone was tired and happy.

    Fern and Avery 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. Henever felt lonely when she was near. In the distance he