nybody would think we had three

ganders, three geese, and twenty-one

goslings. Sheep?"

"He-aa-aa!" answered the sheep all

together.

"Lambs?"

"He-aa-aa!" answered the lambs all

together.

"Templeton?"

No answer.

"Templeton?"

No answer.

"Well, we are all here except the

rat," said Charlotte. "I guess we can

proceed without him. Now, all of you

must have noticed what's been going on

around here the last few days. The

message I wrote in my web, praising

Wilbur, has been received. The

Zuckermans have fallen for it, and so has

everybody else. Zuckerman thinks

Wilbur is an unusual pig, and therefore

he won't want to kill him and eat him. I

dare say my trick will work and

Wilbur's life can be saved.

"Hurray!" cried everybody.

"Thank you very much," said

Charlotte. "Now I called this meeting in

order to get suggestions. I need new

ideas for the web. People are already

getting sick of reading the words 'Some

Pig!". If anybody can think of another

message, or remark, I'll be glad to

weave it into the web. Any suggestions

for a new slogan?"

"How about 'Pig Supreme'?" asked

one of the lambs.

"No good," said Charlotte. "It

sounds like a rich dessert."

"How about 'Terrific, terrific,

terrific'?" asked the goose.

"Cut that down to one 'terrific' and

it will do very nicely," said Charlotte. "I

think 'terrific' might impress

Zuckerman."

"But Charlotte," said Wilbur, "I'm

not terrific."

"That doesn't make a particle of

difference," replied Charlotte. "Not a

particle. People believe almost anything

they see in print. Does anybody here

know how to spell 'terrific'?"

"I think," said the gander, "it's tee

double ee double rr double rr double

eye double ff double eye double see see

see see see."

"What kind of an acrobat do you

think I am?" said Charlotte in disgust. "I

would have to have St. Vitus's Dance to

weave a word like that into my web."

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," said the

gander.

Then the oldest sheep spoke up. "I

agree that there should be something new

written in the web if Wilbur's life is to

be saved. And if Charlotte needs help in

finding words, I think she can get it from

our friend Templeton. The rat visits the

dump regularly and has access to old

magazines. He can tear out bits of

advertisements and bring them up here to

the barn cellar, so that Charlotte can

have something to copy."

"Good idea," said Charlotte. "But

I'm not sure Templeton will be willing to

help. You know how he is - always

looking out for himself, never thinking of

the other fellow."

"I bet I can get him to help," said

the old sheep. "I'll appeal to his baser

instincts, of which he has plenty. Here he

comes now. Everybody keep quiet while

I put the matter up to him!"

The rat entered the barn the way he

always did - creeping along close to the

wall.

"What's up?" he asked, seeing the

animals assembled.

"We're holding a directors'

meeting," replied the old sheep.

"Well, break it up! " said

Templeton. "Meetings bore me."

And the rat began to climb a rope

that hung against the wall.

"Look," said the old sheep, "next

time you go to the dump, Templeton,

bring back a clipping from a magazine.

Charlotte needs new ideas so she can

write messages in her web and save

Wilbur's life."

"Let him die," said the rat. "I should

worry."

"You'll worry all right when next

winter comes," said the sheep. "You'll

worry all right on a zero morning next

January when Wilbur is dead and

nobody comes down here with a nice

pail of warm slops to pour into the

trough. Wilbur's leftover food is your

chief source of supply, Templeton. You

know that. Wilbur's food is your food;

therefore Wilbur's destiny and your

destiny are closely linked. If Wilbur is

killed and his trough stands empty day

after day, you'll grow so thin we can

look right through your stomach and see

objects on the other side."

Templeton's whiskers quivered.

"Maybe you're right," he said

gruffly. "I'm making a trip to the dump

tomorrow afternoon. I'll bring back a

magazine clipping if I can find one."

"Thanks," said Charlotte. "The

meeting is now adjourned. I have a busy

evening ahead of me. I've got to tear my

web apart and write 'Terrific.' "

Wilbur blushed. "But I'm not

terrific, Charlotte. I'm just about average

for a pig."

"You're terrific as far as I'm

concerned," replied Charlotte, sweetly,

"and that's what counts. You're my best

friend, and I think you're sensational.

Now stop arguing and go get some

sleep!"