E. B. White, Garth Williams
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
This beloved book by E. B. White, author of Stuart Little and The Trumpet of the Swan, is a classic of children's literature that is "just about perfect."
Some Pig. Humble. Radiant. These are the words in Charlotte's Web, high up in Zuckerman's barn. Charlotte's spiderweb tells of her feelings for a little pig named Wilbur, who simply wants a friend. They also express the love of a girl named Fern, who saved Wilbur's life when he was born the runt of his litter.
E. B. White's Newbery Honor Book is a tender novel of friendship, love, life, and death that will continue to be enjoyed by generations to come. It contains illustrations by Garth Williams, the acclaimed illustrator of E.B. White's Stuart Little and Laura Ingalls Wilder's Little House series, among many other books.
Supports the Common Core State Standards
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
enough!” cried Templeton. “Don’t tell me any more. I’m going.” “Good,” said Charlotte, winking at the old sheep. “Now then—there is no time to be lost. Wilbur will soon be put into the crate. Templeton and I must get in the crate right now and hide ourselves.” The rat didn’t waste a minute. He scampered over to the crate, crawled between the slats, and pulled straw up over him so he was hidden from sight. “All right,” said Charlotte, “I’m next.” She sailed into the air, let out a dragline, and
guests who came to board at the Beavers’ ranch every summer. But the thing he enjoyed most in life was these camping trips in Canada with his father. Mrs. Beaver didn’t care for the woods, so she seldom went along—it was usually just Sam and Mr. Beaver. They would motor to the border and cross into Canada. There Mr. Beaver would hire a bush pilot to fly them to the lake where his camp was, for a few days of fishing and loafing and exploring. Mr. Beaver did most of the fishing and loafing. Sam
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
then fade. Apple blossoms come with the lilacs, and the bees visit around among the apple trees. The days grow warm and soft. School ends, and children have time to play and to fish for trouts in the brook. Avery often brought a trout home in his pocket, warm and stiff and ready to be fried for supper. Now that school was over, Fern visited the barn almost every day, to sit quietly on her stool. The animals treated her as an equal. The sheep lay calmly at her feet. Around the first of July, the