“Stop!” screamed Wilbur. “I don’t want to die! Save me, somebody! Save me!”
Fern was just about to jump up when a voice was heard. “Be quiet, Wilbur!” said Charlotte, who had been listening to this awful conversation.
“I can’t be quiet,” screamed Wilbur, racing up and down. “I don’t want to be killed. I don’t want to die.”
“Is it true what the old sheep says, Charlotte? Is it true they are going to kill me when the cold weather comes?”
“Well,” said the spider, plucking thoughtfully at her web, “the old sheep has been around this barn a long time.”
“She has seen many a spring pig come and go. If she says they plan to kill you, I’m sure it’s true.”
“It’s also the dirtiest trick I ever heard of. What people don’t think of!”
Wilbur burst into tears. “I don’t want to die,” he moaned. “I want to stay alive, right here in my comfortable manure pile with all my friends.”
“I want to breathe the beautiful air and lie in the beautiful sun.”
“You’re certainly making a beautiful noise,” snapped the old sheep.
“I don’t want to die!” screamed Wilbur, throwing himself to the ground.
“You shall not die,” said Charlotte, briskly. “What? Really?” cried Wilbur. “Who’s going to save me?”
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