Love is a puzzle posed by the emotions and not likely to be solved by reason.
Anon
ePub
A4Chapter 3: Escape
T
he barn was very large. It wasvery old. It smelled of hay and it smelled
of manure. It smelled of the perspiration
of tired horses and the wonderful sweet
breath of patient cows. It often had a sort
of peaceful smell - as though nothing bad
could happen ever again in the world. It
smelled of grain and of harness dressing
and of axle grease and of rubber boots
and of new rope. And whenever the cat
was given a fish-head to eat, the barn
would smell of fish. But mostly it
smelled of hay, for there was always hay
in the great loft up overhead. And there
was always hay being pitched down to
the cows and the horses and the sheep.
The barn was pleasantly warm in
winter when the animals spent most of
their time indoors, and it was pleasantly
cool in summer when the big doors
stood wide open to the breeze. The barn
had stalls on the main floor for the work
horses, tie-ups on the main floor for the
cows, a sheepfold down below for the
sheep, a pigpen down below for Wilbur,
and it was full of all sorts of things that
you find in barns: ladders, grindstones,
pitch forks, monkey wrenches, scythes,
lawn mowers, snow shovels, ax handles,
milk pails, water buckets, empty grain
sacks, and rusty rat traps. It was the kind
of barn that swallows like to build their
nests in. It was the kind of barn that
children like to play in. And the whole
thing was owned by Fern's uncle,
Mr.Homer L. Zuckerman.
Wilbur's new home was in the
lower part of the barn, directly
underneath the cows. Mr.Zuckerman
knew that a manure pile is a good place
to keep a young pig. Pigs need warmth,
and it was warm and comfortable down
there in the barn cellar on the south side.
Fern came almost every day to visit
him. She found an old milking stool that
had been discarded, and she placed the
stool in the sheepfold next to Wilbur's
pen. Here she sat quietly during the long
afternoons, thinking and listening and
watching Wilbur. The sheep soon got to
know her and trust her. So did the geese,
who lived with the sheep. All the
animals trusted her, She was so quiet
and friendly. Mr.Zuckerman did not
allow her to take Wilbur out, and he did
not allow her to get into the pigpen. But
he told Fern that she could sit on the
stool and watch Wilbur as long as she
wanted to. It made her happy just to be
near the pig, and it made Wilbur happy
to know that she was sitting there, right
outside his pen. But he never had any
fun, no walks, no rides, no swims.
One afternoon in June, when Wilbur
was almost two months old, he
wandered out into his small yard outside
the barn. Fern had not arrived for her
usual visit. Wilbur stood in the sun
feeling lonely and bored.
"There's never anything to do
around here," he thought. He walked
slowly to his food trough and sniffed to
see if anything had been overlooked at
lunch. He found a small strip of potato
skin and ate it. His back itched, so he
leaned against the fence and rubbed
against the boards. When he tired of this,
he walked indoors, climbed to the top of
the manure pile, and sat down. He didn't
feel like going to sleep, he didn't feel
like digging, he was tired of standing
still, tired of lying down. "I'm less than
two months old and I'm tired of living,"
he said. He walked out to the yard again.
"When I'm out here," he said,
"there's no place to go but in. When I'm
indoors, there's no place to go but out in
the yard."
"That's where you're wrong, my
friend, my friend," said a voice.
Wilbur looked through the fence
and saw the goose standing there.
"You don't have to stay in that dirtylittle
dirty-little dirty-little yard," said
the goose, who talked rather fast. "One
of the boards is loose. Push on it, pushpush-
push on it, and come on out!"
"What?" said Wilbur. "Say it
slower!"
"At-at-at, at the risk of repeating
myself," said the goose, "I suggest that
you come on out. It's wonderful out
here."
"Did you say a board was loose?"
"That I did, that I did," said the
goose.
Wilbur walked up to the fence and
saw that the goose was right - one board
was loose. He put his head down, shut
his eyes, and pushed. The board gave
way. In a minute he had squeezed
through the fence and was standing in the
long grass outside his yard. The goose
chuckled.
"How does it feel to be free?" she
asked.
"I like it," said Wilbur. "That is, I
guess I like it."
Actually, Wilbur felt queer to be
outside his fence, with nothing between
him and the big world.
"Where do you think I'd better go?"
"Anywhere you like, anywhere you
like," said the goose. "Go down through
the orchard, root up the sod! Go down
through the garden, dig up the radishes!
Root up everything! Eat grass! Look for
corn! Look for oats! Run all over! Skip
and dance, jump and prance! Go down
through the orchard and stroll in the
woods! The world is a wonderful place
when you're young."
"I can see that," replied Wilbur. He
gave a jump in the air, twirled, ran a few
steps, stopped, looked all around,
sniffed the smells of afternoon, and then
set off walking down through the
orchard. Pausing in the shade of an apple
tree, he put his strong snout into the
ground and began pushing, digging, and
rooting. He felt very happy. He had
plowed up quite a piece of ground
before anyone noticed him. Mrs.
Zuckerman was the first to see him. She
saw him from the kitchen window, and
she immediately shouted for the men.
"Ho-mer!" she cried. "Pig's out!
Lurvy! Pig's out! Homer! Lurvy! Pig's
out. He's down there under that apple
tree."
"Now the trouble starts," thought
Wilbur. "Now I'll catch it."
The goose heard the racket and she,
too, started hollering.
"Run-run-run downhill, make for
the woods, the woods!" she shouted to
Wilbur. "They'll never-never-never
catch you in the woods."
The cocker spaniel heard the
commotion and he ran out from the barn
to join the chase. Mr.Zuckerman heard,
and he came out of the machine shed
where he was mending a tool. Lurvy, the
hired man, heard the noise and came up
from the asparagus patch where he was
pulling weeds. Everybody walked
toward Wilbur and Wilbur didn't know
what to do. The woods seemed a long
way off, and anyway, he had never been
down there in the woods and wasn't sure
he would like it.
"Get around behind him, Lurvy,"
said Mr.Zuckerman, "and drive him
toward the barn! And take it easy - don't
rush him! I'll go and get a bucket of slops
(food for pigs)."
The news of Wilbur's escape
spread rapidly among the animals on the
place. Whenever any creature broke
loose on Zuckerman's farm, the event
was of great interest to the others. The
goose shouted to the nearest cow that
Wilbur was free, and soon all the cows
knew. Then one of the cows told one of
the sheep, and soon all the sheep knew.
The lambs learned about it from their
mothers. The horses, in their stalls in the
barn, pricked up their ears when they
heard the goose hollering; and soon the
horses had caught on to what was
happening. "Wilbur's out," they said.
Every animal stirred and lifted its head
and became excited to know that one of
his friends had got free and was no
longer penned up or tied fast.
Wilbur didn't know what to do or
which way to run. It seemed as though
everybody was after him. "If this is what
it's like to be free," he thought, "I believe
I'd rather be penned up in my own yard."
The cocker spaniel was sneaking
up on him from one side, Lurvy the hired
man was sneaking up on him from the
other side. Mrs.Zuckerman stood ready
to head him off if he started for the
garden, and now Mr.Zuckerman was
coming down toward him carrying a
pail. "This is really awful," thought
Wilbur. "Why doesn't Fern come?" He
began to cry.
The goose took command and
began to give orders. "Don't just stand
there, Wilbur! Dodge about, dodge
about!" cried the goose. "Skip around,
run toward me, slip in and out, in and
out, in and out! Make for the woods!
Twist and turn!"
The cocker spaniel sprang for
Wilbur's hind leg. Wilbur jumped and
ran. Lurvy reached out and grabbed.
Mrs. Zuckerman screamed at Lurvy. The
goose cheered for Wilbur. Wilbur
dodged between Lurvy's legs. Lurvy
missed Wilbur and grabbed the spaniel
instead.
"Nicely done, nicely done!" cried
the goose. "Try it again, try it again!"
"Run downhill!" suggested the
cows.
"Run toward me!" yelled the gander
(male goose).
"Run uphill!" cried the sheep.
"Turn and twist!" honked the goose.
"Jump and dance!" said the rooster.
"Look out for Lurvy!" called the
cows.
"Look out for Zuckerman!" yelled
the gander.
"Watch out for the dog!" cried the
sheep.
"Listen to me, listen to me!"
screamed the goose.
Poor Wilbur was dazed and
frightened by this hullabaloo (ruckus,
uproar, confusion). He didn't like being
the center of all this fuss. He tried to
follow the instructions his friends were
giving him, but he couldn't run downhill
and uphill at the same time, and he
couldn't turn and twist when he was
jumping and dancing, and he was crying
so hard he could barely see anything that
was happening.
After all, Wilbur was a very young
pig - not much more than a baby, really.
He wished Fern were there to take him
in her arms and comfort him. When he
looked up and saw Mr. Zuckerman
standing quite close to him, holding a
pail of warm slops, he felt relieved. He
lifted his nose and sniffed. The smell
was delicious - warm milk, potato skins,
wheat middlings, Kellogg's Corn Flakes,
and a popover left from the Zuckermans'
breakfast.
"Come, pig!" said Mr.Zuckerman,
tapping the pail. "Come pig!"
Wilbur took a step toward the pail.
"No-no-no!" said the goose. "It's
the old pail trick, Wilbur. Don't fall for
it, don't fall for it! He's trying to lure you
back into captivity-ivity. He's appealing
to your stomach."
Wilbur didn't care. The food
smelled appetizing. He took another step
toward the pail.
"Pig, pig!" said Mr. Zuckerman in a
kind voice, and began walking slowly
toward the barnyard, looking all about
him innocently, as if he didn't know that
a little white pig was following along
behind him.
"You'll be sorry-sorry-sorry,"
called the goose.
Wilbur didn't care. He kept walking
toward the pail of slops.
"You'll miss your freedom," honked
the goose. "An hour of freedom is worth
a barrel of slops."
Wilbur didn't care.
When Mr. Zuckerman reached the
pigpen, he climbed over the fence and
poured the slops into the trough. Then he
pulled the loose board away from the
fence, so that there was a wide hole for
Wilbur to walk through.
"Reconsider, reconsider!" cried the
goose.
Wilbur paid no attention. He
stepped through the fence into his yard.
He walked to the trough and took a long
drink of slops, sucking in the milk
hungrily and chewing the popover. It
was good to be home again.
While Wilbur ate, Lurvy fetched a
hammer and some 8-penny nails and
nailed the board in place. Then he and
Mr.Zuckerman leaned lazily on the fence
and Mr. Zuckerman scratched Wilbur's
back with a stick.
"He's quite a pig," said Lurvy.
"Yes, he'll make a good pig," said
Mr. Zuckerman.
Wilbur heard the words of praise.
He felt the warm milk inside his
stomach. He felt the pleasant rubbing of
the stick along his itchy back. He felt
peaceful and happy and sleepy. This had
been a tiring afternoon. It was still only
about four o'clock but Wilbur was ready
for bed.
"I'm really too young to go out into
the world alone," he thought as he lay
down.
