The goose had been listening to this conversation and chuckling to herself.
“There are a lot of things Wilbur doesn’t know about life,” she thought.
He’s really a very innocent little pig. He doesn’t even know what’s going to happen to him around Christmastime;”
he has no idea that Mr. Zuckerman and Lurvy are plotting to kill him.”
And the goose raised herself a bit and poked her eggs a little further under her
so that they would receive the full heat from her warm body and soft feathers.
Charlotte stood quietly over the fly, preparing to eat it. Wilbur lay down and closed his eyes.
He was tired from his wakeful night and from the excitement of meeting someone for the first time.
A breeze brought him the smell of clover—the sweet-smelling world beyond his fence.
“Well,” he thought, “I’ve got a new friend, all right. But what a gamble friendship is!”
Charlotte is fierce, brutal, scheming, bloodthirsty—everything I don’t like.
How can I learn to like her, even though she is pretty and, of course, clever?
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