Fern
loved Wilbur more than anything. She loved to stroke him, to feed him, to put
him to bed. Every morning, as soon as she got up, she warmed his milk, tied his
bib on, and held the bottle for him. Every afternoon, when the school bus
stopped in front of her house, she jumped out and ran to the kitchen to fix
another bottle for him. She fed him again at suppertime, and again just before
going to bed. Mrs. Arable gave him a feeding around noontime each day, when
Fern was away in school. Wilbur loved his milk, and he was never happier than
when Fern was warming up a bottle for him. He would stand and gaze up at her
with adoring eyes.
For the first few
days of his life, Wilbur was allowed to live in a box near the stove in the
kitchen. Then when Mrs. Arable complained, he was moved to a bigger box in the
woodshed. At two weeks of age, he was moved outdoors. It was apple-blossom
time, and the days were getting warmer. Mr. Arable fixed a small yard specially
for Wilbur under an apple tree, and gave him a large wooden box full of straw,
with a doorway cut in it so he could walk in and out as he pleased.
"Won't he be
cold at night?" asked Fern.
"No," said
her father. "Your watch and see what he does."Carrying a bottle of
milk, Fern sat down under the apple tree inside the yard. Wilbur ran to her and
she held the bottle for him while he sucked. When he had finished the last
drop, he grunted and walked sleepily into the box. Fern peered through the
door. Wilbur was poking the straw with his snout. In a short time he had dug a
tunnel in the straw. He crawled into the tunnel and disappeared from sight,
completely covered with straw. Fern was enchanted. It relieved her mind to know
that her baby would sleep covered up, and would stay warm.
Every morning after
breakfast, Wilbur walked out to the road with Fern and waited with her till the
bus came. She would wave good-bye to him, and he would stand and watch the bus
until it vanished around a turn. While Fern was in school, Wilbur was shut up
inside his yard. But as soon as she got home in the afternoon, she would take
him out and he would follow her around the place. If she went into the house,
Wilbur went, too. If she went upstairs, Wilbur would wait at the bottom step
until she came down again. If she took her doll for a walk in the doll
carriage, Wilbur followed along. Sometimes, on these journeys, Wilbur would get
tired, and Fern would pick him up and put him in the carriage alongside the
doll. He liked this. And if he was very tired, he would close his eyes and go
to sleep under the doll's blanket. He looked cute when his eyes were closed,
because his lashes were so long. The doll would close her eyes, too, and Fern
would wheel the carriage very slowly and smoothly so as not to wake her
infants.
One warm afternoon,
Fern and Avery put on bathing suits and went down to the brook for a swim.
Wilbur tagged along at Fern's heels. When she waded into the brook, Wilbur
waded in with her. He found the water quite cold--too cold for his liking. So
while the children swam and played and splashed water at each other, Wilbur
amused himself in the mud along the edge of the brook, where it was warm and
moist and delightfully sticky and oozy.
Every day was a happy
day, and every night was peaceful.
Wilbur was what
farmers call a spring pig, which simply means that he was born in springtime.
When he was five weeks old, Mr. Arable said he was now big enough to sell, and
would have to be sold. Fern broke down and wept. But her father was firm about
it. Wilbur's appetite had increased; he was beginning to eat scraps of food in
addition to milk. Mr. Arable was not willing to provide for him any longer. He
had already sold Wilbur's ten brothers and sisters.
"He's got to go,
Fern," he said. "You have had your fun raising a baby pig, but Wilbur
is not a baby any longer and he has got to be sold.""Call up the
Zuckermans," suggested Mrs. Arable to Fern. "Your Uncle Homer
sometimes raises a pig. And if Wilbur goes there to live, you can walk down the
road and visit him as often as you like.""How much money should I ask
for him?" Fern wanted to know.
"Well,"
said her father, "he's a runt. Tell your Uncle Homer you've got a pig
you'll sell for six dollars, and see what he says."It was soon arranged.
Fern phoned and got her Aunt Edith, and her Aunt Edith hollered for Uncle
Homer, and Uncle Homer came in from the barn and talked to Fern. When he heard
that the price was only six dollars, he said he would buy the pig. Next day
Wilbur was taken from his home under the apple tree and went to live in a
manure pile in the cellar of Zuchkerman's barn.