Charlotte's Web - Chapter 1
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Middle Aged (35-54)Accents
North American (General) North American (US South)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
chapter one before breakfast. Where's Papa? Going with that ax? Said Fern to her mother as they were setting the table for breakfast out to the hog house. Replied Mrs Arable, Some pigs were born last night. I don't see why he needs an axe, continued Fern, who was only eight. Well, said her mother, one of the pigs is a runt. It's very small and weak, and it will never amount to anything. So your father has decided to do away with it. Do away with it. Shriek firm. You mean kill it just because it's smaller than the others? Mrs. Arable put a picture of cream on the table. Don't Yale firm, she said. Your father is right. The pig would probably die anyway. Fern pushed to chair out of the way and ran outdoors. The grass was wet and the earth smelled of springtime. Fern sneakers were stopping by the time she caught up with her father. Please don't kill it, she sobbed. It's unfair. Mr Arable stopped walking firm, he said gently. You will have to learn to control yourself. Control myself. Yield Fern. This is a matter of life and death, and you talk about controlling myself. Tears ran down her cheeks and she took hold of the accent, tried to pull it out of her father's hand. Firm said, Mr Arable, I know more about raising a literal pigs than you do. Ah, weakling makes trouble now run along, but it's unfair. Cried Burn the pig. Couldn't helping born small, could it? If I had been very small at birth, would you have killed me? Mr. Arable smiled. Certainly not, he said, looking down on his daughter with love. But this is different. Ah, little girl is one thing. A little runty pig is another. I see no difference, replied Fern, still hanging on to the axe. This is the most terrible case to been. Justus I ever heard of. A queer look came over John Arab ALS face. He seemed almost ready to cry himself. All right, he said, You go back to the house, I will bring the runt When I come in, I let you started on a bottle like a baby. Then you'll see what trouble a pig can be. When Mr Arable returned to the house half on hour later, he carried a carton under his arm. Verne 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 a friend's place. Then he walked to the sink and washed his hands and drive them on the role or tell Fearn 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. They're inside. Looking up at her was the newborn pig. It was a white one. The morning light shone through its ears. Turning them pink is 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 very moment, her brother Avery came into the room. Avery was 10. He was heavily armed and a rifle in one hand, a wooden dagger in the other. What's that? He demanded. What's firm gone? She's got a guest for breakfast, said Mrs Arable. Wash your hands and face Avery. Let's see, it said. Every setting is gunned 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 in each of breakfast, Avery said his mother, the school bus will be along in 1/2 an hour. Can I have a pig to pop? Asked Avery. No, I only distribute pigs to early risers, said Mr Arable. Fern was up a daylight trying to rid the world of injustice. As a result, she now has a pig, a small one, to be sure, but nevertheless the big It just shows what can happen. If a person gets out of bed promptly. That's he