Chapter 8 7.bad news

Wilbur liked Charlotte more and more every day.Her war on insects seems wise and beneficial.There is hardly anyone around the farm to say a good word about the flies, because the flies spend all their time harassing people.Cows hate them.Horses hate them.Sheep hate them.Mr. and Mrs. Zuckerman were always complaining about them, too, so they put screens on purpose. Wilbur also admired Charlotte's way of doing things.He's glad she puts her victims to sleep before eating them. "It's very kind of you to do that, Charlotte," he said. "Yes," she answered in a sweet voice, "I always anesthetize them first so they don't feel the pain. It's my little free service."

Days passed, and Wilbur grew and grew.He has to eat the food of three pigs a day.He spends his time lying down, taking naps, and dreaming sweet dreams.He is in good health and has gained a lot of weight.One afternoon, while Fern was sitting on her stool, the old sheep came to visit Wilbur in the barn. "Hello!" she said. "I see you are getting fatter." "Yes, I think so," replied Wilbur. "It's good to be fat at my age." "Even so, I don't envy you," said the old sheep. "Do you know why they made you so fat?" "Don't know," said Wilbur.

"Well, I don't like to spread bad news," said the old sheep, "but I'll tell you anyway, they fed you up to kill you in the future, and that's why." "What are they going to do?" Wilbur screamed.Fern who was sitting on the stool was also dumbfounded. "Kill you. Make you into bacon and ham," continued the old sheep. "Nearly all the young piggies are murdered by the farmers when winter comes. There's a well-known conspiracy here that you're going to be killed at Christmas. Everyone's in on the plan--Luvy, Zuckerman Even John Arable."

"Mr. Arable?" Wilbur sobbed. "Fern's dad?" "Of course. When a pig is slaughtered, everyone has to help. I'm an old sheep, and I've seen it a lot. It's the same old thing every year. Arable will take his 0.22 caliber gun, come and shoot at..." "Stop it!" screamed Wilbur. "I don't want to die! Help me, someone! Help me!" The scream almost made Fern jump. "Calm down, Wilbur!" said Charlotte, who had been listening to the ghastly conversation. "I can't keep my composure," yelled Wilbur, running around. "I don't want to be killed. I don't want to die. Is it true what the old sheep say, Charlotte? Will they really kill me when winter comes?"

"Well," said Charlotte, tugging her net gently, "the old sheep has lived in this barn for a long time. She has seen a lot of spring pigs coming and going. If she says people are going to kill you, I will Think that's true. It's also the most shameful ruse I've ever heard. There's nothing human can't figure out!" Wilbur burst into tears. "I don't want to die," he moaned. "I want to live here, right next to my cozy manure pile, with all my friends. I want to breathe the sweet air and lie in the beautiful sun." "You're talking beautiful nonsense." The old sheep quickly interrupted him.

"I don't want to die!" screamed Wilbur, collapsing to the ground. "You're not going to die," said Charlotte briskly. "What? Really?" called Wilbur. "Who's going to save me?" "Me," said Charlotte. "How?" asked Wilbur. "There will be a solution later. But while I'm thinking about how to save you, I want you to be quiet immediately. You cry like a child. Don't cry! I can't stand hysteria."