Charlotte's Web C1–2

  C1-2 When Mr. Arable returned to the house half an hour later, he carried a carton under his arm.  Fern was upstairs changing her sneakers.  The kitchen table was set for breakfast, and the room smelled of coffee, bacon, damp plaster, and wood smoke from the stove.   "Put it on her chair!" said Mrs. Arable.  Mr. Arable set the carton down at Fern's place.  Then he walked to the sink and washed his hands and dried them on the roller towel.   Fern came slowly down the stairs.  Her eyes were red from crying.  As she approached her chair, the carton wobbled, and there was a scratching noise.   Fern looked at her father.  Then she lifted the lid of the carton.  There, inside, looking up at her, was the newborn pig.  It was a white one.  The morning light shone through its ears, turning them pink.   "He's yours," said Mr. Arable.  "Saved from an untimely death.  And may the good Lord forgive me for this foolishness."   Fern couldn't take her eyes off the tiny pig.  "Oh," she whispered. "Oh, look at him!   He's absolutely perfect."   She closed the carton carefully.  First she kissed her father, then she kissed her mother.  Then she opened the lid again, lifted the pig out, and held it against her cheek.  At this moment her brother Avery came into the room.  Avery was ten.   He was heavily armed - an air rifle in one hand, a wooden dagger in the other.   "What's that?" he demanded.  "What's Fern got?"   "She's got a guest for breakfast," said Mrs. Arable.  "Wash your hands and face, Avery!"   "Let's see it!" said Avery, setting his gun down.  "You call that miserable thing a pig?   That's a fine specimen of a pig, it's no bigger than a white rat."   "Wash up and eat your breakfast, Avery!" said his mother. "The school bus will be along in half an hour."   "Can I have a pig, too, Pop?" asked Avery.   "No, I only distribute pigs to early risers," said Mr. Arable.  "Fern was up at daylight, trying to rid the world of injustice.  As a result, she now has a pig.  A small one, to be sure,but nevertheless a pig.  It just shows what can happen if a person gets out of bed promptly.  Let's eat!"   But Fern couldn't eat until her pig had had a drink of milk.   Mrs. Arable found a baby's nursing bottle and a rubber nipple. She poured warm milk into the bottle, fitted the nipple over the top, and handed it to Fern.  "Give him his breakfast!" she said.   A minute later, Fern was seated on the floor in the corner of the kitchen with her infant between her knees, teaching it to suck from the bottle.  The pig, although tiny, had a good appetite and caught on quickly.   The school bus honked from the road.   "Run!" commanded Mrs. Arable, taking the pig from Fern and slipping a doughnut into her hand.  Avery grabbed his gun and another doughnut.   The children ran out to the road and climbed into the bus. Fern took no notice of the others in the bus.  She just sat and stared out of the window, thinking what a blissful world it was and how lucky she was to have entire charge of a pig.  By the time the bus reached school, Fern had named her pet, selecting the most beautiful name she could think of.   "Its name is Wilbur," she whispered to herself.   She was still thinking about the pig when the teacher said: "Fern, what is the capital of Pennsylvania?"   "Wilbur," replied Fern, dreamily.  The pupils giggled.  Fern blushed.