the grey goose led her seven goslings off the nest and out into the world.
Mr. Zuckerman spied them when he came with Wilbur’s supper. “Well, hello there!” he said, smiling all over.
“Let’s see... one, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Seven baby geese. Now isn’t that lovely!”
Chapter VII Bad News
Wilbur liked Charlotte better and better each day. Her campaign against insects seemed sensible and useful.
Hardly anybody around the farm had a good word to say for a fly. Flies spent their time pestering others.
The cows hated them. The horses detested them. The sheep loathed them.
Mr. and Mrs. Zuckerman were always complaining about them, and putting up screens.
Wilbur admired the way Charlotte managed. He was particularly glad that she always put her victim to sleep before eating it.
“It’s real thoughtful of you to do that, Charlotte,” he said.
“Yes,” she replied in her sweet, musical voice, “I always give them an anaesthetic so they won't feel pain. It’s a little service I throw in.”
As the days went by, Wilbur grew and grew. He ate three big meals a day.
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