《夏洛的网》 Charlotte's Web【中英对照】(完结)_派派后花园

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[Novel] 《夏洛的网》 Charlotte's Web【中英对照】(完结)

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等级: 热心会员
青鸟不传云外信,丁香空结雨中愁
举报 只看该作者 20楼  发表于: 2014-01-04 0

Chapter 20 The Hour of Triumph

"Special announcement!" said the loud speaker in a pompous voice. "The management of the Fair takes great pleasure in presenting Mr. Homer L. Zuckerman and his famous pig. The truck bearing this extraordinary animal is now approaching the infield. Kindly stand back and give the truck room to proceed! In a few moments the pig will be unloaded in the special judging ring in front of the grandstand, where a special award will be made. Will the crowd please make way and let the truck pass. Thank you."Wilbur trembled when he heard this speech. He felt happy but dizzy. The truck crept along slowly in low speed. Crowds of people surrounded it, and Mr. Arable had to drive very carefully in order not to run over anybody. At last he managed to reach the judges' stand. Avery jumped out and lowered the tailgate.
  "I'm scared to death," whispered Mrs. Zuckerman. "Hundreds of people are looking at us.
  "Cheer up," replied Mrs. Arable,"this is fun.""Unload your pig, please!" said the loud speaker.
  "All together, now, boys!" said Mr. Zuckerman. Several men stepped forward from the crowd to help lift the crate. Avery was the busiest helper of all.
  "Tuck your shirt in, Avery!" cried Mrs. Zuckerman. "And tighten your belt. Your pants are coming down.""Can't you see I'm busy?" replied Avery in disgust.
  "Look!" cried Fern, pointing. "There's Henry!""Don't shout, Fern!" said her mother. "And don't point!""Can't I please have some money?" asked Fern. "Henry invited me to go on the Ferris wheel again, only I don't think he has any money left. he ran out of money."Mrs. Arable opened her handbag. "Here," she said. "Here is forty cents. Now don't get lost! And be back at our regular meeting place by the pigpen very soon!"Fern raced off, ducking and dodging through the crowd, in search of Henry.
  "The Zuckerman pig is now being taken from his crate," boomed the voice of the loud speaker. "Stand by for an announcement!"Templeton crouched under the straw at the bottom of the crate. "What a lot of nonsense!" muttered the rat. "What a lot of fuss about nothing!"Over in the pigpen, silent and alone, Charlotte rested. Her two front legs embraced the egg sac. Charlotte could hear everything that was said on the loud speaker. The words gave her courage. This was her hour of triumph.
  As Wilbur came out of the crate, the crowd clapped and cheered. Mr. Zuckerman took off his cap and bowed. Lurvy pulled his big handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the sweat from the back of his neck. Avery knelt in the dirt by Wilbur's side, busily stroking him and showing off. Mrs. Zuckerman and Mrs. Arable stood on the running board of the truck.
  "Ladeez and gentlemen," said the loud speaker, "we now present Mr. Homer L. Zuckerman's distinguished pig. The fame of this unique animal has spread to the far corners of the earth, attracting many valuable tourists to our great State. Many of you will recall that never-to-be-forgotten day last summer when the writing appeared mysteriously on the spider's web in Mr. Zuckerman's barn, calling the attention of all and sundry to the fact that this pig was completely out of the ordinary. This miracle has never been fully explained, although learned men have visited the Zuckerman pigpen to study and observe the phenomenon. In the last analysis, we simply know that we are dealing with supernatural forces here, and we should all feel proud and grateful. In the words of the spider's web, ladies and gentlemen, this is some pig."Wilbur blushed. He stood perfectly still and tried to look his best.
  "This magnificent animal," continued the loud speaker, "is truly terrific. Look at him, ladies and gentlemen! Note the smoothness and whiteness of the coat, observe the spotless skin, the healthy pink glow of ears and snout.""It's the buttermilk," whispered Mrs. arable to Mrs. Zuckerman.
  "Note the general radiance of this animal! Then remember the day when the word 'radiant' appeared clearly on the web. Whence came this mysterious writing? Not from the spider, we can rest assured of that. Spiders are very clever at weaving their webs, but needless to say spiders cannot write.""Oh, they can't, can't they?" murmured Charlotte to herself.
  "Ladeez and gentlemen," continued the loud speaker, "I must not take any more of your valuable time. On behalf of he governors of the Fair, I have the honor of awarding a special prize of twenty-five dollars to Mr. Zuckerman, together with a handsome bronze medal suitably engraved, in token of our appreciation of the part played by this pig--this radiant, this terrific, this humble pig--in attracting so many visitors to our great County Fair."Wilbur had been feeling dizzier and dizzier through this long, complimentary speech. When he heard the crowd begin to cheer and clap again, he suddenly fainted away. His legs collapsed, his mind went blank, and he fell to the ground, unconscious.
  "What's wrong?" asked the loud speaker. "What's going on, Zuckerman?" What's the trouble with your pig?"Avery was kneeling by Wilbur's head, stroking him. Mr. Zuckerman was dancing about, fanning him with his cap.
  "He's all right," cried Mr. Zuckerman. "He gets these spells. He's modest and can't stand praise.""Well, we can't give a prize to a dead pig," said the loud speaker. "It's never been done.""He isn't dead," hollered Zuckerman. "He's fainted. He gets embarrassed easily. Run for some water, Lurvy!"Lurvy sprang from the judges' ring and disappeared.
  Templeton poked his head from the straw. He noticed that the end of Wilbur's tail was within reach. Templeton grinned. "I'll tend to this," he chuckled. He took Wilbur's tail in his mouth and bit it, just as hard as he could bite. The pain revived Wilbur. In a flash he was back on his feet.
  "Ouch!" he screamed.
  "Hoorray!" yelled the crowd. "He's up! The pig's up! Good word, zuckerman! That's some pig!" Everyone was delighted. Mr. Zuckerman was the most pleased of all. He sighed with relief. Nobody had seen Templeton. The rat had done his work well.
  And now one of the judges climbed into the ring with the prizes. He handed Mr. Zuckerman two ten dollar bills and a five dollar bill. then he tied the medal around Wilbur's neck. Then he shook hands with Mr. Zuckerman while Wilbur blushed. Avery put out his hand and the judge shook hands with him, too. The crowd cheered. A photographer took Wilbur's picture.
  A great feeling of happiness swept over the Zuckermans and the Arables. This was the greatest moment in Mr. Zuckerman's life. It is deeply satisfying to win a prize in front of a lot of people.
  As Wilbur was being shoved back into the crate, Lurvy came charging through the crowd carrying a pail of water. His eyes had a wild look. Without hesitating a second, he dashed the water at Wilbur. In his excitement he missed his aim, and the water splashed all over Mr. Zuckerman and Avery. They got soaking wet.
  "for goodness' sake!" bellowed Mr. Zuckerman, who was really drenched. "What ails you, Lurvy? Can't you see the pig is all right?""You asked for water," said Lurvy meekly.
  "I didn't ask for a shower bath," said Mr. Zuckerman. The crowd roared with laughter. Finally Mr. Zuckerman had to laugh, too. And of course Avery was tickled to find himself so wet, and he immediately started to act like a clown. He pretended he was taking a shower bath; he made faces and danced around and rubbed imaginary sop under his armpits. Then he dried himself with an imaginary towel.
  "Avery, stop it!" cried his mother. "Stop showing off!"But the crowd loved it. Avery heard nothing but the applause. He liked being a clown in a ring, with everybody watching, in front of a grandstand. When he discovered there was still a little water left in the bottom of the pail, he raised the pail high in the air and dumped the water on himself and made faces. The children in the grandstand screamed with appreciation.
  At last things calmed down. Wilbur was loaded into the truck. Avery was led from the ring by his mother and placed on the seat of the truck to dry off. The truck, driven by Mr. Arable, crawled slowly back to the pigpen. Avery's wet trousers made a big wet spot on the seat.

  “特别消息!”广播喇叭里以一种炫耀的声音说,“展览会的主办者正在非常荣幸地为各位介绍霍默·L·祖克曼先生和他的名猪。装着这头非凡的动物的卡车现在正朝我们开过来。请往后退,让卡车开过来!这头猪马上就要被送到大看台前的特别裁判场来,并在那里被授予特别奖。请大家后退,让卡车通过。谢谢你们。”
  当听到这些报道时,威伯颤抖起来,他幸福得都要晕过去了。卡车慢慢地往前开着,周围挤满了人。阿拉贝尔先生不得不开得很小心,以免压到人。最后他终于设法开到了裁判场前。埃弗里跳下车,打开后车门。
  “我要吓死了,”祖克曼太太低语,“几百人在看着我们呢。”
  “振作些,”阿拉贝尔先生回答,“那不是很有趣嘛。”
  “请把你们的猪抬下来!”扩音器里说。
  “现在,一起用力,孩子们!”祖克曼先生说,几个男人抬起箱子从人流中穿过去。埃弗里是几个人中最棒的一个。
  “把你的衬衫掖进去,埃弗里!”祖克曼太太喊,“再紧紧你的裤带。你的裤子要掉下来了。”
  “你没看见我正忙着吗?”埃弗里不高兴地回答。
  “看,”芬叫着指去,“那是亨利!”
  “别喊,芬!”她妈妈说,“不许指指点点!”
  “能给我点儿钱吗?”芬问,“亨利又请我去坐大转轮了,可我想他没钱了,他把钱都花光了。”
  阿拉贝尔太太打开她的手袋。“给,”她说,“这是四毛钱。别跑丢了!一会儿到猪圈那里的老地方等我们!”
  芬跑进了人群,挤来挤去的寻找着亨利。
  “祖克曼家的猪现在正被从板条箱里带出来,”扩音器里嗡嗡地喊着,“请大家静等通告!”
  坦普尔曼趴在板条箱底的稻草下面。“都在胡说什么呀!”他嘟囔着,“吵死了!”
  夏洛正在猪圈上方,一个人静静地休息。她的两条前腿还在紧紧地抱着卵囊。夏洛能听到扩音器里说的每一句话。那些话为她增添了不少勇气。这是她的胜利时刻。
  当威伯从板条箱里走出来时,人们开始鼓掌喝彩。祖克曼先生脱帽鞠躬致谢。鲁维从口袋里拽出他的大手绢,擦着脖子后面的汗。埃弗里跪在威伯身边,不停地抚摩着他,炫耀着。祖克曼太太和阿拉贝尔太太正站在卡车的脚踏板上。
  “女士们先生们,”扩音器里说,“我们现在向诸位介绍霍默·L·祖克曼先生的杰出的猪。这头不寻常的动物的名声早已经传到了地球最远的角落,他为我们这个伟大的国家吸引了很多尊贵的游客。你们中的很多人可能仍然记得今年夏天早些时候的那个永-不-会-忘-记-的日子,那天,在祖克曼先生的谷仓里,有一个词被神秘地织在那里的蜘蛛网上面,它令所有人都注意到了这个事实,即那头猪完全是卓越不凡的。这个奇迹从未被完全地解释清楚,尽管学者们已经到祖克曼家的猪圈参观过,并观察、研究过这一现象。最近的分析表明,我们目前只知道我们在这里讨论的是一种超自然的力量,我们都应该为此而自豪和感恩。那张蜘蛛网里的写的词,女士们先生们,就是‘好猪’。”
  威伯脸红了。他完美地静立着,让自己站得像最好的猪。
  “这个壮美的动物,”扩音器里继续说,“真的是很棒。看看他,女士们先生们!请注意他那雪白、光滑的毛皮,观赏他那一尘不染的皮肤,还有他那耳朵与鼻子上散发出的健康的,粉红色的光辉。”
  “那是酸奶的缘故。”阿拉贝尔太太对祖克曼太太耳语道。
  “请注意这个动物身上无处不在的光辉!这会让人想起‘闪光’这个词清晰地出现在蜘蛛网里的那一天。这个神秘的字迹从何而来呢?它不是来自于蜘蛛,我们完全能保证这一点。蜘蛛虽然有织网的本能,但它却不能写字,这一点是无须多说的。”
  “噢,他们不能这么说!怎么能这么说?”夏洛自言自语。
  “女士们先生们,”扩音器里继续说,“我不必再浪费你们的宝贵时间了。作为展览会主办者的代表,我有幸向祖克曼先生颁发一笔二十五美元的特别奖金,同时颁发的还有一块漂亮的花纹精美的青铜奖章,它将用来象征我们对这头猪的赏识——这是一头闪光的,很棒的,谦恭的猪——正是他把这么多的参观者吸引到我们这伟大的展览会上来。”
  这些无休止的恭维使威伯越来越承受不住了。当他听到人们再次开始欢呼和鼓掌时,他突然幸福得昏了过去。他的腿瘫了,大脑一片空白,毫无知觉地躺到了地上。
  “出什么毛病了?”扩音器里问,“发生了什么事情,祖克曼?你的猪有麻烦了吗?”
  埃弗里跪到威伯的头前,抚摸着威伯。祖克曼先生也跃过来,用他的帽子给威伯扇凉。
  “他没事,”祖克曼先生喊,“他被这些话弄晕了。他是最谦虚的,受不了夸奖。”
  “很好,可我们不能给一头死猪发奖,”扩音器说,“这是从没有过的事。”
  “他没死,”祖克曼高喊,“他只是晕了。他很容易被夸倒。拿点水来,鲁维!”
  鲁维跑下裁判场,不见了。
  坦普尔曼从稻草里探出了头。他发现威伯的尾巴尖就在他的眼前。坦普尔曼呲呲牙。“我要这样帮他,”他咯咯地笑起来。他把威伯的尾巴塞到嘴里,尽自己最大的力气狠狠咬了一口。威伯一下子就疼醒了。他猛地站了起来。
  “嗷!”他尖叫。
  “万岁!”人们狂叫,“他站起来了,这头猪站起来了!干得好,祖克曼!那是头好猪!”每个人都兴奋起来。祖克曼先生是最高兴的。他放心地吁了一口气。没人看到坦普尔曼。老鼠的活儿干得太漂亮了。
  现在,一个裁判带着奖金进了裁判场。他递给祖克曼先生两张十美元的钞票与一张五美元的钞票,然后又把奖章挂到了威伯的脖子上。当威伯变成大红脸时,他和祖克曼先生握了握手。埃弗里伸出手来,裁判也和他握了握手。人们欢呼起来。一个摄影师给威伯照了一张像。
  一股无比幸福的暖流席卷了祖克曼一家与阿拉贝尔一家。这是祖克曼先生一生中最美的时刻。在这么多人面前获得奖金,令他深深地感到满足。
  当威伯被送回板条箱时,鲁维拎着一桶水从人群挤出来。他的眼发疯地搜寻了一会儿,就毫不犹豫地把水向威伯泼去。由于太紧张,他瞄错了地方,于是水都泼到了祖克曼先生和埃弗里身上。他们全都淋湿了。
  “看在上帝的份上!”完全被淋透的祖克曼先生咆哮起来,“你有病吗,鲁维?你看不见那头猪已经没事了吗?”
  “你要我淋的水。”鲁维怯怯地嘀咕。
  “可我没要淋浴。”祖克曼先生说。人们哄笑起来。后来,祖克曼先生也笑起来。发现自己身上湿了的埃弗里可乐坏了,立刻开始扮起小丑来。他假装自己正在洗淋浴;他做着鬼脸,转圈跳着,往他的腋窝下打着并不存在的肥皂。然后他又用了一条根本就没有的毛巾给自己擦身。
  “埃弗里,停下来!”他的母亲喊,“别丢人现眼了!”
  可人们却爱看。埃弗里除了人们的喝彩外也什么都没听到。他喜欢在大看台前的裁判场里做一个人人注目的小丑。当他发现桶里还剩了些水,便把桶高高举起,把剩下的水也泼到自己身上,同时又做了许多鬼脸。大看台旁的孩子们都赞赏地尖叫起来。
  最后,一切都平静下来。威伯被装上了卡车,埃弗里被他的母亲领下了裁判场,带到卡车里的座位上。阿拉贝尔先生开着卡车慢慢往猪圈的方向去。埃弗里的湿裤子在座位里留下了一大滩水迹。

asnowtea

ZxID:23354934


等级: 热心会员
青鸟不传云外信,丁香空结雨中愁
举报 只看该作者 21楼  发表于: 2014-01-05 0

Chapter 21 Last Day


Charlotte and Wilbur were alone. The families had gone to look for Fern. Templeton was asleep. Wilbur lay resting after the excitement and strain of the ceremony. His medal still hung from his neck; by looking out of the corner of his eye he could see it.
  "Charlotte," said Wilbur after a while, "why are you so quiet?""I like to sit still," she said. "I've always been rather quiet.""Yes, but you seem specially so today. Do you feel all right?""A little tired, perhaps. But I feel peaceful. Your success in the ring this morning was, to a small degree, my success. Your future is assured. You will live, secure and safe, Wilbur. Nothing can harm you now. These autumn days will shorten and grow cold. The leaves will shake loose from the trees and fall. Christmas will come, then the snows of winter. You will live to enjoy the beauty of the frozen world, for you mean a great deal to Zuckerman and he will not harm you, ever. Winter will pass, the days will lengthen, the ice will melt in the pasture pond. Then song sparrow will return and sing, the frogs will awake, the warm wind will blow again. All these sights and sounds and smells will be yours to enjoy, Wilbur--this lovely world, these precious days..."Charlotte stopped. a moment later a tear came to Wilbur's eye. "Oh, Charlotte," he said. "To think that when I first met you I thought you were cruel and bloodthirsty!"When he recovered from his emotion, he spoke again.
  "Why did you do all this for me?" he asked. "I don't deserve it. I've never done anything for you.""You have been my friend," replied Charlotte. "That in itself is a tremendous thing. I wove my webs for you because I liked you. After all, what's a life, anyway? We're born, we live a little while, we die. A spider's life can't help being something of a mess, with all this trapping and eating flies. By helping you, perhaps I was trying to lift up my life a trifle. Heaven knows anyone's life can stand a little of that.""Well," said Wilbur. "I'm no good at making speeches. I haven't got your gift for words. But you have saved me, Charlotte, and I would gladly give my life for you--I really would.""I'm sure you would. And I thank you for your generous sentiments.""Charlotte," said Wilbur. "We're all going home today. The Fair is almost over. Won't it be wonderful to be back home in the barn cellar again with the sheep and the geese? Aren't you anxious to get home?"For a moment Charlotte said nothing. Then she spoke in a voice so low Wilbur could hardly hear the words.
  "I will not be going back to the barn," she said.
  Wilbur leapt to his feet. "Not going back?" he cried. "Charlotte, what are you talking about?
  "I'm done for," she replied. "In a day or two I'll be dead. I haven't even strength enough to climb down into the crate. I doubt if I have enough silk in my spinnerets to lower me to the ground."Hearing this, Wilbur threw himself down in an agony of pain and sorrow. Great sobs racked his body. He heaved and grunted with desolation. "Charlotte," he moaned. "Charlotte! My true friends!""Come now, let's not make a scene," said the spider. "Be quiet, Wilbur. Stop thrashing about!""But I can't stand it," shouted Wilbur. "I won't leave you here alone to die. If you're going to stay here I shall stay, too.""Don't be ridiculous," said Charlotte. "You can't stay here. Zuckerman and Lurvy and John Arable and the others will be back any minute now, and they'll shove you into that crate and away you'll go. Besides, it wouldn't make any sense for you to stay. There would be no one to feed you. The fair Grounds will soon be empty and deserted."Wilbur was in a panic. he raced round and round the pen. Suddenly he had an idea--he thought of the egg sac and the five hundred and fourteen little spiders that would hatch in the spring. If Charlotte herself was unable to go home to the barn, at least he must take her children along.
  Wilbur rushed to the front of his pen. He put his front feet up on the top board and gazed around. In the distance he saw the Arables and the Zuckermans approaching. He knew he would have to act quickly.
  "Where's Templeton?" he demanded.
  "He's in that corner, under the straw, asleep," said Charlotte.
  Wilbur rushed over, pushed his strong snout under the rat, and tossed him into the air.
  "Templeton!" screamed Wilbur. "Pay attention!"The rat, surprised out of a sound sleep, looked first dazed then disgusted.
  "What kind of monkeyshine is this?" he growled. "Can't a rat catch a wink of sleep without being rudely popped into the air?""Listen to me!" cried Wilbur. "Charlotte is very ill. She has only a short time to live. She cannot accompany us home, because of her condition. Therefore, it is absolutely necessary that I take her egg sac with me. I can't reach it, and I can't climb. You are the only one that can get it. There's not a second to be lost. The people are coming--they'll be here in no time. Please, please, please, Templeton, climb up and get the egg sac."The rat yawned. He straightened his whiskers. Then he looked up at the egg sac.
  "So!" he said, in disgust. "So it's old Templeton to the rescue again, is it? Templeton do this, Templeton do that, Templeton please run down to the dump and get me a magazine clipping, Templeton please lend me a piece of string so I can spin a web.""Oh, hurry!" said Wilbur. "Hurry up, Templeton!"But the rat was in no hurry. He began imitating Wilbur's voice.
  "So it's 'Hurry up, Temple,' is it?" he said. "Ho, ho. and what thanks do I ever get for these services, I would like to know? Never a kind word for old Templeton, only abuse and wisecracks and side remarks. Never a kind word for a rat.""Templeton," said Wilbur in desperation, "if you don't stop talking and get busy, all will be lost, and I will die of a broken heart. Please climb up!"Templeton lay back in the straw. Lazily he placed his forepaws behind his head and crossed his knees, in an attitude of complete relaxation.
  "Die of a broken heart," he mimicked. "How touching! My, my! I notice that it's always me you come to when in trouble. But I've never heard of anyone's heart breaking on my account. Oh, no. Who cares anything about old Templeton?""Get up!" screamed Wilbur. "Stop acting like a spoiled child1"Templeton grinned and lay still. "Who made trip after trip to the dump?" he asked. "Why, it was old Templeton! Who saved Charlotte's life by scaring that Arable boy away with a rotten goose egg? Bless my soul, I believe it was old Templeton. Who bit your tail and got you back on your feet this morning after you had fainted in front of the crowd? Old Templeton. Has it ever occurred to you that I'm sick of running errands and doing favors? What do you think I am, anyway, a rat-of-all-work?"Wilbur was desperate. The people were coming. And the rat was failing him. Suddenly he remembered Templeton's fondness for food.
  "Templeton," he said, "I will make you a solemn promise. get Charlotte's egg sac for me, and from now on I will let you eat first, when Lurvy slops me. I will let you have your choice of everything in the trough and I won't touch a thing until you're through."The rat sat up. "You mean that?" he said.
  "I promise. I cross my heart.""All right, it's a deal," said the rat. He walked to the wall and started to climb. His stomach was still swollen from last night's gorge. Groaning and complaining, he pulled himself slowly to the ceiling. He crept along till he reached the egg sac. Charlotte moved aside for him. She was dying, but she still had strength enough to move a little. Then Templeton bared his long ugly teeth and began snipping the threads that fastened the sac to the ceiling. Wilbur watched from below.
  "Use extreme care!" he said. "I don't want a single one of those eggs harmed.""Thith thruff thticks in my mouth," complained the rat. "It'th worth than caramel candy."But Templeton worked away at the job, and managed to cut the sac adrift and carry it to the ground, where he dropped it in front of Wilbur. Wilbur heaved a great sigh of relief.
  "Thank you, Templeton," he said. "I will never forget this as long as I live.""Neither will I," said the rat, picking his teeth. "I feel as though I'd eaten a spool of thread. Well, home we go!"Templeton crept into the crate and buried himself in the straw. He got out of sight just in time. Lurvy and John Arable and Mr. Zucherman came along at that moment, followed by Mrs. Arable and Mrs. Zuckerman and Avery and Fern. Wilbur had already decided how he would carry the egg sac--there was only one way possible. He carefully took the little bundle in his mouth and held it there on top of his tongue. He remembered what Charlotte had told him--that the sac was waterproof and strong. It felt funny on his tongue and made him drool a bit. And of course he couldn't say anything. But as he was being shoved into the crate, he looked up at Charlotte and gave her a wink. She knew he was saying good-bye in the only way he could. And she knew her children were safe.
  "Good-bye!" she whispered. Then she summoned all her strength and waved one of her front legs at him.
  She never moved again. Next day, as the Ferris wheel was being taken apart and the race horses were being loaded into vans and the entertainers were packing up their belongings and driving away in their trailers, Charlotte died. The Fair Grounds were soon deserted. The sheds and buildings were empty and forlorn. The infield was littered with bottles and trash. Nobody, of the hundreds of people that has visited the Fair, knew that a grey spider had played the most important part of all. No one was with her when she died.

  夏洛和威伯又单独在一起了。这两家人都去找芬了。坦普尔曼睡着了。参加完激动而紧张的庆典的威伯正躺在那里休息。他的奖章还在脖子上挂着;他的眼睛正望着从他躺的位置可以看到的角落。
  “夏洛,”过了一会儿,威伯说,“你为什么这么安静?”
  “我喜欢静静地呆着,”她说,“我一向喜欢安静。”
  “我知道,不过你今天似乎有些特别,你感觉还好吧?”
  “可能有一点点累吧。但是我感到很满足。你今早在裁判场上的成功,在很小的程度上,也可以算是我的成功。你的将来没危险了。你会无忧无虑地活下去的,威伯。现在没什么能伤害你的了。这个秋天会变短,也会变冷。叶子们也会从树上摇落的。圣诞节会来,然后就是飘飘的冬雪。你将活着看到那个美丽的冰雪世界的,因为你对祖克曼有很重大的意义,他再也不会想伤害你了。冬天将过去,白天又会变长,草场池塘里的冰也会融化的。百灵鸟又会回来唱歌,青蛙也将醒来,又会吹起暖暖的风。所有的这些美丽的景色,所有的这些动听的声音,所有的这些好闻的气味,都将等着你去欣赏呢,威伯——这个可爱的世界,这些珍贵的日子……”
  夏洛沉默了。片刻之后,泪水模糊了威伯的眼。“哦,夏洛,”他说,“记得刚遇到你的那一天,我还认为你是个残忍嗜血的动物!”
  等情绪稳定下来后,他又继续说起来。
  “为什么你要为我做这一切?”他问,“我不值得你帮我。我从来也没有为你做过任何事情。”
  “你一直是我的朋友,”夏洛回答,“这本身就是你对我最大的帮助。我为你织网,是因为我喜欢你。然而,生命的价值是什么,该怎么说呢?我们出生,我们短暂的活着,我们死亡。一个蜘蛛在一生中只忙碌着捕捉、吞食小飞虫是毫无意义的。通过帮助你,我才可能试着在我的生命里找到一点价值。老天知道,每个人活着时总要做些有意义的事才好吧。”
  “噢,”威伯说,“我并不善于说什么大道理。我也不能像你说得那么好。但我要说,你已经拯救了我,夏洛,而且我很高兴能为你奉献我的生命——我真的很愿意。”
  “我相信你会的。我要感谢你这无私的友情。”
  “夏洛,”威伯说,“我们今天就要回家了。展览会快结束了。再回到谷仓地窖的家,和绵羊、母鹅们在一起不是很快活吗?你不盼着回家吗?”
  夏洛沉默了好一会儿。然后她用一种低得威伯几乎都听不到的声音说:
  “我将不回谷仓了。”她说。
  威伯吃惊得跳了起来。“不回去?”他叫,“夏洛,你在说什么?”
  “我已经不行了,”她回答,“一两天内我就要死去了。我现在甚至连爬下板条箱的力气都没有了。我怀疑我的丝囊里是否还有足够把我送到地面上的丝了。”
  听到这些话,威伯立刻沉浸到巨大的痛苦和忧伤之中。他痛苦地绞动着身子,哭叫起来。“夏洛,”他呻吟道,“夏洛!我真诚的朋友!”
  “好了,不要喊了,”夏洛说,“安静,威伯。别哭了!”
  “可是我忍不住,”威伯喊,“我不会让你在这里孤独地死去的。如果你要留在这里,我也要留下。”
  “别胡说了,”夏洛说,“你不能留在这里。祖克曼和鲁维还有约翰·阿拉贝尔以及其他人现在随时都会回来,他们会把你装到箱子里,带你离开的。此外,你留在这里也没什么好处,这里不会有人喂你的。展览会不久就会空无一人的。”
  威伯陷入了恐慌之中。他在猪圈里转着圈子跑来跑去。突然他想起了一件事——他想到了卵囊和明年春天里将要出世的那514只小蜘蛛。如果夏洛不能回到谷仓里的家,至少他要把她的孩子们带回去。
  威伯向猪圈前面冲去。他把前腿搭在木板上,四处察看着。他看到阿拉贝尔一家和祖克曼一家正从不远处走过来。他知道他必须赶快行动了。
  “坦普尔曼在哪里?”他问。
  “他在稻草下面的角落里睡着呢。”夏洛说。
  威伯奔过去,用他有力的鼻子把老鼠拱上了天。
  “坦普尔曼!”威伯尖叫,“醒醒!”
  从美梦中惊醒的老鼠,开始看起来还迷迷糊糊的,随即就变得气愤起来。
  “你这是搞什么恶作剧?”他怒吼,“一只老鼠挤个时间安静地睡一小会儿时,就不能不被粗暴地踢上天?”
  “听我说!”威伯叫,“夏洛快死了,她只能活很短的一段时间了。因此她不能陪我们一起回家了。所以,我只能把她的卵囊带回去了。可我上不去,我不会爬。你是唯一能帮我的人了。再等一秒种就来不及了,人们就要走过来了——他们一到就没时间了。请,请,请帮帮我,坦普尔曼,爬上去把卵囊带下来吧。”
  老鼠打了一个哈欠。他梳了梳他的胡子,才抬头朝卵囊望去。
  “所以!”他厌恶地说,“所以又是老坦普尔曼来救你,对吧?坦普尔曼做这个,坦普尔曼做那个,请坦普尔曼去垃圾堆为我找破杂志,请坦普尔曼借我一根绳子,我好织网。”
  “噢,快点!”威伯说,“快去,坦普尔曼!”
  可老鼠却一点儿也不急。他开始模仿起威伯的声音来。
  “所以现在该说‘快去,坦普尔曼’了,对不对呀?”他说,“哈,哈。我很想知道,我为你们提供了这么多的特别服务后,都得到了什么感谢呀?从没有人给过老坦普尔曼一句好听的话,除了谩骂,风凉话和旁敲侧击之外。从没有人对老鼠说过一句好话。”
  “坦普尔曼,”威伯绝望地说,“如果你不停止你的议论,马上忙起来的话,什么就都完了,我也会心碎而死的,请你爬上去吧!”
  坦普尔曼反而躺到了稻草里。他懒洋洋地把前爪枕到脑后,翘起了二郎腿,一副完全与己无关的自得模样。
  “心碎而死,”他模仿,“多么感人呀!啊唷,啊唷!我发现当你有麻烦时总是我来帮你。可我却从没听说谁会为了我而心碎呢。哦,没人会的。谁在乎老坦普尔曼?”
  “站起来!”威伯尖叫,“别装得跟一个惯坏了的孩子似的!”
  坦普尔曼咧嘴笑笑,还是躺着没动。“是谁一趟趟的往垃圾堆跑呀?”他问,“为什么,总是老坦普尔曼!是谁用那个坏鹅蛋把阿拉贝尔家的男孩子臭跑,救了夏洛一命呀?为我的灵魂祈祷吧,我相信这件事又是老坦普尔曼做的。是谁咬了你的尾巴尖儿,让今早昏倒在人们面前的你站起来的呀?还是老坦普尔曼。你就没想过我已经厌倦了给你跑腿,为你施恩吗?你以为我是什么,一个什么活都得干的老鼠奴仆吗?”
  威伯绝望了。人们就要来了,可老鼠却在忙着奚落他。突然,他想起了老鼠对食物的钟爱。
  “坦普尔曼,”他说,“我将给你一个郑重的承诺。只要你把夏洛的卵囊给我拿下来,那么从现在起每当鲁维来喂我时,我都将让你先吃。我会让你先去挑选食槽里的每一样食物,在你吃饱之前,我绝不碰里面的任何东西。”
  老鼠腾地坐了起来。“真的吗?”他说。
  “我保证。我在胸口划十字保证。”
  “好极了,这是个划得来的交易。”老鼠说。他走到墙边开始往上爬。可是他的肚子里还存着许多昨天吃的好东西呢,因此他只好边抱怨边慢慢地把自己往上面拉。他一直爬到卵囊那里。夏洛为他往边上挪了挪。她就要死了,但她还有动一动的力气。然后坦普尔曼张开他丑陋的长牙,去咬那些把卵囊绑在棚顶的线。威伯在下面看着。
  “要特别小心!”他说,“我不想让任何一个卵受伤。”
  “它粘到我嘴上了,”老鼠抱怨,“它比胶皮糖还黏。”
  但是老鼠还是设法把卵囊拉下来,带到地面,丢到威伯面前。威伯大大松了一口气。
  “谢谢你,坦普尔曼,”他说,“我这一辈子也不会忘记的。”
  “我也是,”老鼠说着,剔剔他的牙,“我感觉好像吞下了满满一线轴的线。好吧,我们回家吧!”
  坦普尔曼爬进板条箱,把自己埋到稻草下面。他消失得正是时候。鲁维和约翰·阿拉贝尔,祖克曼先生那一刻正好走过来,身后跟着阿拉贝尔太太和祖克曼太太,还有芬和埃弗里。威伯已经想好怎么带走卵囊了——这只有一种可能的方法。他小心翼翼地把这个小东西吞到嘴里,放到了舌头尖上。他想起了夏洛告诉过他的话——这个卵囊是防水的,结实的。可这让他的舌头觉得痒痒的,口水开始流了出来。这时他什么也不能说了,但当他被推进板条箱时,他抬头望了一眼夏洛,对她眨了眨眼。她知道他在用他所能用的唯一方式,在对自己说再见。她也知道她的孩子们都很安全。
  “再-见!”她低语。然后她鼓起全身仅剩的一丝力气,对威伯挥起一只前腿。
  她再也不能动了。第二天,当费里斯大转轮被拆走,那些赛马被装进货车拉走,游乐场的摊主们也收拾起他们的东西,把他们的活动房搬走时,夏洛死了。这个展览会不久就被人遗忘了。那些棚屋与房子只好空虚地,孤单单地留在那里。地上堆满了空瓶子之类的废物和垃圾。没有一个人,参加过这次展览会的几百人中,没有一个人知道:那只大灰蜘蛛在这次展览会上扮演了一个最重要的角色。当她死亡时,没有一个人陪在她的身旁。
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等级: 热心会员
青鸟不传云外信,丁香空结雨中愁
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Chapter 22 A Warm Wind

And so Wilbur came home to his beloved manure pile in the barn cellar. His was a strange homecoming. Around his neck he wore a medal of honor; in his mouth he held a sac of spider's eggs. There is no place like home, Wilburn thought, as he placed Charlotte's five hundred and fourteen unborn children carefully in a safe corner. The barn smelled good. His friends the sheep and the geese were glad to see him back.
  The geese gave him a noisy welcome.
  "Congratu-congratu-congratulations!" they cried. "Nice work."Mr. Zuckerman took the medal from Wilburn's neck and hung it on a nail over the pigpen, where visitors could examine it. Wilbur himself could look at it whenevere he wanted to.
  In the days that followed, he was very happy. He grew to a great size. He no longer worried about being killed, for he knew that Mr. Zuckerman would keep him as long as he lived. Wilbur often thought of Charlotte. A few strands of her old web still hung in the doorway. Every day Wilburn would stand and look at the torn, empty web, and a lump would come to his throat. No one had ever had such a friend-so affectionate, so loyal, and so skillful.
  The autumn days grew shorter, Lurvy brought the squashes and pumpkins in from the garden and piled them on the barn floor, where they wouldn't get nipped on frosty nights. The maples and birches turned bright colors and the wind shook them and they dropped their leaves one by one to the ground. Under the wild apple trees in the pasture, the red little apples lay thick on the ground, and the sheep gnawed them and foxes came in the night and sniffed them. One evening, just before Christmas, snow began falling. It covered house and barn and fields and woods. Wilbur had never seen snow before. When morning came he went out and plowed the drifts in his yard, for the fun of it. Fern and Avery arrived, dragging a sled. They coasted down the lane and out onto the frozen pond in the pasture.
  "Coasting is the most fun there is," said Avery.
  "The most fun there is," retorted Fern, "is when the Ferris wheel stops and Henry and I are in the top car and Henry makes the car swing and we can see everything for miles and miles and miles.""Goodness, are you still thinking about that ol'Ferris wheel?" said Avery in disgust. "The Fair was weeks and weeks ago.""I think about it all the time," said Fern, picking snow from her ear.
  After Christmas the thermometer dropped to ten below zero. Cold settled on the world. The pasture was bleak and frozen. The cows stayed in the barn all the time now, except on sunny mornings when they went out and stood in the barnyard in the lee of the straw pile. The sheep stayed near the barn, too, for protection. When they were thirsty they ate snow. The geese hung around the barnyard the way boys hang around a drug store, and Mr. Zuckerman fed them corn and turnips to keep them cheerful.
  "Many, many, many thanks!" they always said, when they saw food coming.
  Templeton moved indoors when winter came. His ratty home under the pig trough was too chilly, so he fixed himself a cozy nest in the barn behind the grain bins. He lined it with bits of dirty newspapers and rags, and whenever he found a trinket or a keepsake he carried it home and stored it there. He continued to visit Wilbur three times a day, exactly at mealtime, and Wilbur kept the promise he had made. Wilbur let the rat eat first. Then, when Templeton couldn't hold another mouthful, Wilbur would eat. As a result of overeating, Templeton grew bigger and fatter than any rat you ever saw. He was gigantic. he was as big as a young woodchuck.
  the old sheep spoke to him about his size one day. 鈥淵ou would live longer," said the old sheep, "if you ate less.""Who wants to live forever?" sneered the rat. "I am naturally a heavy eater and I get untold satisfaction from the pleasures of the feast." He patted his stomach, grinned at the sheep, and crept upstairs to lie down.
  All winter Wilbur watched over Charlotte's egg sac as though he were guarding his own children. He had scooped out a special place in the manure for the sac, next to the board fence. On very cold nights he lay so that his breath would warm it. For Wilbur, nothing in life was so important as this small round object--nothing else mattered. Patiently he awaited the end of winter and coming of the little spiders. Life is always a rich and steady time when you are waiting for something to happen or to hatch. The winter ended at last.
  "I heard the frogs today," said the old sheep one evening. "Listen! You can hear them now."Wilbur stood still and cocked his ears. From the pond, in shrill chorus, came the voices of hundreds of little frogs.
  "Springtime," said the old sheep, thoughtfully. "Another spring." As she walked away, Wilbur saw a new lamb following her. It was only a few hours old.
  The snows melted and ran away. The streams and ditches bubbled and chattered with rushing water. A sparrow with a streaky breast arrived and sang. The light strengthened, the mornings came sooner. Almost every morning there was another new lamb in the sheepfold. the goose was sitting on nine eggs. The sky seemed wider and a warm wind blew. The last remaining strands of Charlotte's old web floated away and vanished.
  One fine sunny morning, after breakfast, Wilbur stood watching his precious sac. He wasn't thinking of anything much. As he stood there, he noticed something move. He stepped closer and stared. A tiny spider crawled from the sac. It was no bigger than a grain of sand, no bigger than the head of a pin. Its body was grey with a black stripe underneath. Its legs were grey and tan. It looked just like Charlotte.
  Wilbur trembled all over when he saw it. The little spider waved at him. Then Wilbur looked more closely. Two more little spiders crawled out and waved. They climbed round and round on the sac, exploring their new world. Then three more little spiders. Then eight. Then ten. Charlotte's children were here at last.
  Wilbur's heart pounded. he began to squeal. Then he raced in circles, kicking manure into the air. Then he turned a back flip. Then he planted his front feet and came to a stop in front of Charlotte's children.
  "Hello, there!" he said.
  The first spider said hello, but its voice was so small Wilbur couldn't hear it.
  "I am an old friend of your mother's," said Wilbur. "I'm glad to see you. are you all right? Is everything all right?"The little spiders waved their forelegs at him. Wilbur could see by the way they acted that they were glad to see him.
  "Is there anything I can get you? Is there anything you need?"The young spiders just waved. For several days and several nights they crawled here and there, up and down, around and about, waving at Wilbur, trailing tiny draglines behind them, and exploring their home. There were dozens and dozens of them. Wilbur couldn't count them, but he knew that he had a great many new friends. They grew quite rapidly. Soon each was as big as a BB shot. They made tiny webs near the sac.
  Then came a quiet morning when Mr. Zuckerman opened a door on the north side. A warm draft of rising air blew softly through the barn cellar. The air smelled of the damp earth, of the spruce woods, of the sweet springtime. The baby spiders felt the warm updraft. One spider climbed to the top of the fence. Then it did something that came as a great surprise to Wilbur. The spider stood on its head, pointed its spinnerets in the air, and let loose a cloud of fine silk. The silk formed a balloon. As Wilbur watched, the spider let go of the fence and rose into the air.
  "Good-bye!" it said, as it sailed through the doorway.
  "Wait a minute!" screamed Wilbur. "Where do you think you're going?"But the spider was already out of sight. Then another baby spider crawled to the top of the fence, stood on its head, made a balloon, and sailed away. Then another spider. Then another. the air was soon filled with tiny balloons, each balloon carrying a spider.
  Wilbur was frantic. Charlotte's babies were disappearing at a great rate.
  "Come back, children!" he cried.
  "Good-bye!" they called. "Good-bye, good-bye!"At last one little spider took time enough to stop and talk to Wilbur before making its balloon.
  "We're leaving here on the warm updraft. This is our moment for setting forth. We are aeronauts and we are going out into the world to make webs for ourselves.""But where?" asked Wilbur.
  "Wherever the wind takes us. High, low. Near, far. East, west. North, south. We take to the breeze, we go as we please.""Are all of you going?" asked Wilbur. "You can't all go. I would be left alone, with no friends. Your mother wouldn't want that to happen, I'm sure."The air was now so full of balloonists that the barn cellar looked almost as though a mist had gathered. Balloons by the dozen were rising, circling, and drifting away through the door, sailing off on the gentle wind. Cries of "Good-bye, good-bye, good-bye!" came weakly to Wilbur's ears. He couldn't bear to watch any more. In sorrow he sank to the ground and closed his eyes. This seemed like the end of the world, to be deserted by Charlotte's children. Wilbur cried himself to sleep.
  When he woke it was late afternoon. He looked at the egg sac. It was empty. He looked into the air. The balloonists were gone. Then he walked drearily to the doorway, where Charlotte's web used to be. He was standing there, thinking of her, when he heard a small voice.
  "Salutations!" it said. "I'm up here.""So am I," said another tiny voice.
  "So am I,"said a third voice. "Three of us are staying. We like this place, and we like you."Wilbur looked up. At the top of the doorway three small webs were being constructed. On each web, working busily was one of Charlotte's daughters.
  "Can I take this to mean," asked Wilbur, "that you have definitely decided to live here in the barn cellar, and that I am going to have three friends?""You can indeed," said the spiders.
  "What are your names, please?" asked Wilbur, trembling with joy.
  "I'll tell you my name," replied the first little spider,if you'll tell me why you are trembling.""I'm trembling with joy," said the first spider.
  "Then my name is Joy," said the first spider.
  "What was my mother's middle initial?" asked the second spider.
  "A," said Wilbur.
  "Then my name is Aranea," said the spider.
  "How about me?" asked the third spider. "Will you just pick out a nice sensible name for me--something not too long, not too fancy, and not too dumb?"Wilbur thought hard.
  "Nellie?" he suggested.
  "Fine, I like that very much," said the third spider."You may call me Nellie." She daintily fastened her orb line to the next spoke of the web.
  Wilbur's heart brimmed with happiness. He felt that he should make a short speech on this very important occasion.
  "Joy! Aranea! Nellie!" he began. "Welcome to the barn cellar. You have chosen a hallowed doorway from which to string your webs. I think it is only fair to tell you that I was devoted to your mother. I owe my very life to her. She was brilliant, beautiful, and loyal to the end. I shall always treasure her memory. To you, her daughters, I pledge my friendship, forever and ever.""I pledge mine," said Joy.
  "I do, too," said Aranea.
  "And so do I," said Nellie, who had just managed to catch a small gnat.
  It was a happy day for Wilbur. And many more happy, tranquil days followed.
  As time went on, and the months and years came and went, he was never without friends. Fern did not come regularly to the barn any more. She was growing up, and was careful to avoid childish things, like sitting on a milk stool near a pigpen. But Charlotte's children and grandchildren and great grandchildren, year after year, lived in the doorway. Each spring there were new little spiders hatching out to take the place of the old. Most of them sailed away, on their balloons. But always two or three stayed and set up housekeeping in the doorway.
  Mr. Zuckerman took fine care of Wilbur all the rest of his days, and the pig was often visited by friends and admirers, for nobody ever forgot the year of his triumph and the miracle of the web. Life in the barn was very good--night and day, winter and summer, spring and fall, dull days and bright days. It was the best place to be, thought Wilbur, this warm delicious cellar, with the garrulous geese, the changing seasons, the heat of the sun, the passage of swallows, the nearness of rats, the sameness of sheep, the love of spiders, the smell of manure, and the glory of everything.
  Wilbur never forgot Charlotte. Although he loved her children and grandchildren dearly, none of the new spiders ever quite took her place in his heart. She was in a class by herself. It is not often that someone comes along who is a true friend and a good writer. Charlotte was both.

  威伯就这样回到他在谷仓地窖里的,牛粪堆旁的家。他回来时的样子很奇特:脖子上挂着一枚荣誉奖章,嘴里含着一个蜘蛛的卵囊。没有一个地方像家里这么温暖,当他把夏洛的514个没出世的孩子小心地放到安全的角落后,他想。谷仓里的味道真好。他的朋友们,绵羊和鹅们都很高兴看到他回来。
  鹅们以他们特有的方式表示欢迎了。
  “恭-恭-恭喜!”他们喊着,“干得漂亮。”
  祖克曼先生把奖牌从威伯脖子上摘下来,挂到猪圈上方的一根钉子上,这里很容易被参观者看到,威伯也可以随时看到它。
  往后的日子里,他过得非常幸福。他长得出奇的大。他不再担心被杀掉了,因为他知道祖克曼先生会让他一直活下去的。威伯也经常想到夏洛。她旧网里的几根残丝仍然在门框上挂着。每天威伯都会走到那里站一会儿,望望那张残破不堪的空网,这时他就会哽噎起来。从没有人有过这样一个朋友——这样亲密的,这样忠诚的,这样聪慧的朋友。
  秋天过得很快,鲁维把丝瓜,南瓜们从园子里堆藏到谷仓里面,在这里它们才不会被霜夜的寒冷冻坏。枫树和桦树们变得分外鲜艳,在秋风的吹动下,它们的红叶子一片,一片地落到了地上。草场里的野苹果树下,可爱的小红苹果躺得满地都是,绵羊和鹅们都来吃它们,夜里狐狸们也会来吞食它们。圣诞节前的一个夜里,开始下雪了。房子上,谷仓里,田野间,树林中,到处都覆盖着雪。威伯以前从没见过雪。当他早晨起来后,就到院子里去拱雪堆,感觉这特别有趣。芬和埃弗里拖着雪橇走过来了。他们顺着小路往外滑去,一直滑到草场那边结冰的池塘上。
  “坐雪橇是最有意思的了。”埃弗里说。
  “最有意思的是,”芬反驳,“是在费里斯大转轮停在那里,我和亨利走进最高的位子,然后亨利就让我们的座位摇晃着往前走的时候。那时我们能看到每一件东西,不管它是在多么远,多么远的地方。”
  “老天,你还在想着那个大转轮呀?”埃弗里不屑地说,“展览会是很多很多星期前的事了。”
  “我可是时刻都在想着。”芬说着,掸了掸耳朵上的雪。
  圣诞节后,温度计上的指数落到零下十度了。寒冷统治了世界。草场上变得一片凄清。母牛们现在整日呆在谷仓里了,除非在阳光充足的早上,他们才会走出来,在院子里稻草堆旁的避风处站一会儿。为了取暖,绵羊们也呆在谷仓里,很少出去了。渴了他们就吃雪。鹅们就就像男孩子们在药店里一样,在院子里无精打采地走着。为了让他们高兴,祖克曼先生给他们喂玉米和芜菁。
  “非常,非常,非常感谢!”当他们看到送来的食物时总是这么说。
  冬天来时,坦普尔曼搬到屋里来住了。他在猪食槽下的家已经变得太冷了,因此他在谷仓后的粮仓里给自己造了一个安乐窝。他往那里垫上了碎报纸和破布条,还把任何他能找到的东西都储存在那里。他仍是每天拜访威伯三次,都正好在吃饭的时候出现,威伯也一直遵守他许下的诺言,让老鼠先吃。等到老鼠撑得不能往嘴里塞任何东西时,威伯才过来吃。由于吃得太多的缘故,坦普尔曼长得越来越大,比你见过的任何一只老鼠都要肥。他简直成了一只“庞然大鼠”了,几乎和一只小土拨鼠不相上下。
  一天, 老羊对他说起了他的个头。“你可能活久一点的,”老羊说,“如果你少吃一点的话。”
  “谁想永远活下去?”老鼠轻蔑地说,“我天生就是个特别能吃的,正是从吃喝上面我才得到了无穷的满足。”他拍拍肚子,对绵羊冷笑了一声,爬上楼躺下了。
  整个的冬天威伯都在照看着夏洛的卵囊,好像在呵护他自己的孩子一样。他在离栅栏不远处的牛粪堆旁,给卵囊腾出了一个特别的地方。每个寒冷的夜晚,他都躺在那里,让自己的呼吸使它温暖。对威伯来说,他的生命中没有一件东西比这个小圆球更重要。他耐心地等着冬天的结束,小蜘蛛们的到来。当你在等待什么发生或被孵出来时,生活总是变得漫长而又单调。可冬天终于还是过去了。
  “我今天听到青蛙叫了,”老羊一天晚上说,“听!现在你就能听到他们。”
  威伯静静地站着,竖起了耳朵。从池塘那边,传来了数百只小青蛙的高声合唱。
  “春天,”老羊深思着说,“又一个春天。”当她走开时,威伯看到她身后跟着一只新羊羔。它才被生下来一小时。
  积雪融尽了。小溪和壕沟被潺潺的流水填满了。一只胸脯下带着美丽条纹的雀儿,跳过来开始唱歌。天光渐亮,早晨不久就到来了。几乎每天一早都有一只新生的羊羔降生到羊圈里。母鹅正坐在九个蛋上。天空似乎更宽广了,到处都是和畅的风。夏洛的旧网里剩下的最后几缕丝线也被吹得无影无踪了。
  一个阳光遍地的早晨,吃过早饭的威伯又在观察他那珍贵的卵囊了。他本来没有抱太大的期望的,可是当他静静地站在那里观望时,居然发现有什么在那里动。他便走近一些盯着它看。一只很小的蜘蛛从卵囊里爬出来了。它还没有一颗沙粒大,也并不比一根大头针的针头大。它的身体是灰的,下面带有黑色的斑纹,它的腿是灰褐色的。它看起来就像夏洛一样。
  当他看到它时,威伯惊喜得浑身颤抖起来。这只小动物向他爬过来。威伯朝卵囊走得更近了。两只更小的蜘蛛也爬了出来,在空中漂浮着。他们在卵囊周围爬了一圈又一圈,探索着他们的新世界。接着又出来三只更小的蜘蛛。接着是八个。然后是十个。夏洛的孩子们最后都在这儿了。
  威伯心里充满了骄傲。他幸福地狂叫起来。接着他开始转着圈儿的跑,把牛粪向空中踢去。然后他又跑回来,抬起他的前脚,停到了夏洛的孩子们面前。
  “你们好!”他说。
  第一只小蜘蛛也说了你好,但它的声音太小了,威伯根本没听到。
  “我是你们妈妈的一个老朋友,”威伯说,“我很高兴能看到你们。你们都好吗?什么都好吗?”
  小蜘蛛们对他挥动着他们的前腿。威伯见了知道他们也很高兴看到他。
  “我能为你们做任何事吗?你们有任何需要帮忙的吗?”
  年轻的蜘蛛们只是朝他挥挥脚。一连几天几夜,他们就这么这里那里,上下左右地爬着,对威伯挥着脚,从身后扯出细小的丝线,在他们的家里探险。这里足有几百只蜘蛛。威伯虽然数不过来,却知道他有了无数的新朋友。他们长得很快。不久就都像弹丸那么大了。他们在卵囊附近还织了很多小网。
  一个寂静的早晨,当祖克曼先生打开北边的门时,有件事情发生了。从谷仓地窖里轻轻吹出一股温暖的上升气流。空气中满是泥土的清芬,树木的香味,甘甜的春天气息。小蜘蛛们感受到了这温暖的上升气流。一只蜘蛛爬到了栅栏上面,然后他做了件令威伯非常惊奇的事。这只蜘蛛把腿放到头上,把身后的丝囊对向天空,开始放出云一样的游丝。这些丝线形成了一个大汽球。就在威伯看着的时候,这只蜘蛛让自己离开栅栏往天空飞去。
  “再-见!”当它飞过门口时说。
  “等一等!”威伯尖叫,“你想去哪里?”
  但是这只蜘蛛已经远得看不见了。然后另一只蜘蛛也爬上了栅栏,站在头上,做了一个汽球,向天空飞去。然后是又一只。又是一只。空中不久就充满了无数的小汽球,每个汽球下都挂着一只蜘蛛。
  威伯已经发狂了。夏洛的宝宝们都以惊人的速度消失了。
  “回来吧,孩子们!”他哭喊。
  “再-见!”他们回答,“再-见,再-见!”
  最后一只飞去的小蜘蛛在造它的汽球之前和威伯谈了一会儿。
  “我们要随着这温暖的上升气流离开这里了。这是我们起航的时刻。我们是汽球驾驶员,我们要到世界各地,为我们自己织网。”
  “可你们去哪里呢?”威伯问。
  “风把我们带到的任何地方。不管是高处,矮处,近处,远处,东边,西边,北边还是南边。我们乘着微风,我们开心地离去。”
  “你们都要走吗?”威伯问,“你们不能都走,我一个人在这里,会没有朋友的,你们的妈妈不想发生这种事,我能肯定。”
  空中满是汽球驾驶员,谷仓的地窖里现在看起来就像起了一层大雾。汽球们一个接一个地升起,盘旋,从门口飘远,在和畅的蕙风里航行着。无数声的“再-见,再-见,再-见!”轻轻地不断传进威伯的耳朵。他受不了再这么看下去了。他悲痛地沉到地上,闭上了眼。被夏洛的孩子们遗弃之后,威伯感觉就像到了世界的末日。威伯孤独地痛哭着睡了过去。
  当他醒来时,已经快到傍晚了。他看看卵囊,它已经空了。他朝空中望去,汽球驾驶员们也都走了。他凄伤地走到门口,来到夏洛的网曾经存在过的地方。他正站在那里,追怀着她时,他听到了一个细小的声音。
  “致敬!”那声音说,“我在这上面。”
  “我也是。”另一个细微的声音说。
  “我也是,”第三种声音说,“我们三个留下来了。我们喜欢这里,我们也喜欢你。”
  威伯抬头望去。在门框的上方有三个小蜘蛛正在那里织网呢。每一个网里,都有一个正在忙碌地工作着的夏洛的女儿。
  “我可以这么想,”威伯问,“你们决定住在这谷仓地窖里,而我也将有了三个新朋友了吗?”
  “你可以这么想。”蜘蛛们说。
  “请问,你们都叫什么?”威伯带着狂喜问。
  “我将把我的名字告诉你,”第一只小蜘蛛回答,“如果你告诉我你为何颤抖的话。”
  “我在颤抖是因为极度的快乐(Joy)。”威伯说。
  “那么我的名字就叫乔利(Joy)吧。”第一只小蜘蛛说。
  “我妈妈的中间名字是什么?” 第二只小蜘蛛问。
  “A。”威伯说。
  “那么我的名字就叫阿兰娜吧(Aranea)。” 这只小蜘蛛说。
  “那么我呢?” 第三只小蜘蛛问,“你能给我一个好名字吗——不太长,不太夸张,也不要太沉闷的?”
  威伯使劲儿想起来。
  “内利(Nellie)?”他建议。
  “很好,我非常喜欢,” 第三只蜘蛛说,“你可以叫我内利。”她动作优雅地把她的一根圆线织到了身边的网里。
  威伯的心里盛满了幸福。他感到应该为这个重要时刻发表一场简短的演说。
  “乔利!阿兰娜!内利!”他开始说,“欢迎你们到谷仓地窖来。你们已经选择了在一个神圣的门口拉你们的网。我只想告诉你们,我非常热爱你们的母亲。我的生命就是她挽救的。她是卓越的,美丽的,对朋友的忠诚直到生命的最后一刻。我将永远珍藏着对她的回忆。对你们,她的女儿们,我要发誓,我们的友谊,将永远不变。”
  “我发誓。”乔利说。
  “我也发誓。”阿兰娜说。
  “我也是。”刚设法捉到了一只小咬儿的内利说。
  对威伯来说,这是个幸福的一天。以后,也是一连串幸福,宁静的日子。
  随着时间的推移,很多月,很多年过去了,威伯再没缺少过朋友。芬不再定期来看他了。她正在长大,不再让自己去做那些诸如坐在猪圈旁的挤奶凳上一类的孩子气的事情了。但是夏洛的孩子们和孙女们,重孙女们,都年复一年地生活在地窖门口。每年春天都有一些新的小蜘蛛被孵出来,代替那些老去的蜘蛛,他们中的大多数都乘着他们的汽球飞去了,但总有两三只会留下来,在这门口安家。
  祖克曼先生在威伯的余生里对他照顾得很好。他经常被朋友们和崇拜者参观,因为没有人会忘记他取得胜利的那一年和那些蜘蛛网里的奇迹,谷仓里的生活总是非常愉快的——不管是在白天黑夜,冬夏春秋,还是阴天晴天。它是最好的地方,威伯想,这个温暖宜人的地窖里,有絮叨的鹅们,变幻的季节,温暖的阳光,迁徙的燕子,自私的老鼠,固执的绵羊,可爱的蜘蛛,好闻的牛粪,还有一切值得赞美的东西。
  威伯从来没有忘记过夏洛。尽管他是那么的爱她的孩子们和孙女们,但没有一只新来的蜘蛛能代替夏洛在他心中的位置。她是独一无二的。很少有人能同时既是真正的朋友,又是天才的织网家。而夏洛也是。

the end
试玩00000000Y69

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试玩00000000Y69

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石彐建

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回 楼主(asnowtea) 的帖子
散文家E.B.怀特的三部曲之一。
restlin

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相逢一笑泯恩仇
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这个很有名气的读物啊
minical

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The river of no return~
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小米坏坏

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谢谢~~~
夜微凉2017

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2018加油
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非常感谢楼主的分享,刚买了实体书,早知道有分享就可以直接阅读了
试玩7036f3d49v2

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中文是准翻译的呢?
派克包

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我有,我可以
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马住,谢谢
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