The barn was very large. It was very old. It smelled of hay and it smelled of manure1. It smelled of the perspiration2 of tired horses and the wonderful sweet breath of patient cows. It often had a sort of peaceful smell -- as though noghing bad could happen ever again in the world. It smelled of grain and of harness dressing3 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 loft4 up overhead. And there was always hay being pitched down to the cows and the hourses 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 hourses, 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, grindsones, pitch forks, monkey wrenches6, scythes7, lawn mowers, snow shovels8, ax handles, milk pails, water buchers, empty grain sacks, and rusty9 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 underneath10 the cows. Mr. Zuckerman knew that a manure pile is a good place to kkep 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 afternoos, 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 to git 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 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 redes, no swims.
One afternoon in June, when Wilbur was almost two months old, he wandered out into his smalll 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 sniffed11 to see if anything had been overlooked at lunch. He found a small strip of potato skin and ate it. His back itched5, 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 manured pile , and sat down. He didn't feel like going to sleep, he didn't feel like digging, he was tired of standing12 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 freiend," said a voice.
Wilbur looked through the fence and saw the goose standing there.
"You don't have to stay in that dirty-llittle dirty-little dirty-little yard," said the goose, who talded rather fast. "One of the boards is loose. Push on it, push-push-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 sown, 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 chuckled13.
"How does it feel to be free?" she asked.
"I like it ," said Wilbur. "That is, I guess Ilike it." Actually, Wilbur felt queer to be out side 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 orchard14, 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 prance15! Go down through the orchard and stroll in the woods! The world is a wonderful place when you're young."III. Escape(2)"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 plowed16 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 commotion17 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."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, pricked19 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 through 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 sneaking20 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! Dodge21 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 hind18 leg. Wilbur jumped and ran. Lurvy reached out and grabbed. Mrs. Zuckerman screamed at Lurvy. The goose cheered for Wilbur. Wilbur dodged22 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.
"Run uphill!" cried the sheep.
"Turn and twist!" honked23 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. 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 his 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 Flakes24, 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 lure25 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.
谷仓很大，也很旧。里面全是干草和粪肥的气味。还有种跑累了的马身上的汗味儿与好脾气的母牛喷出的奇妙的香甜味道。空气中常驻的，是一种和平的气息——好像这个世界上再不会有坏事情发生了。这里偶尔还会有谷粒的香味，马具上的草料味，车子上的润滑油味，橡胶靴子味，或是新扎的草绳味儿。如果猫儿叼着人们扔给他的鱼头到这里来享受时，谷仓里就会多了股鱼腥味儿。不过，这里面最浓的味道却是干草味儿，因为谷仓上面的大阁楼里总是堆满了干草。这些干草被不断的扔给下面的母牛、马、绵羊们吃。
冬天，当动物们在外面呆久了，回来后会觉得这个谷仓格外的温暖；而夏天呢，当谷仓的门大大敞开着，微风吹进来，这里又变得说不出的凉爽。谷仓上层面有马厩、牛棚，下层的地窖里是羊圈、威伯住的猪圈；里面还堆着你能从谷仓里找到的各类的器具：梯子，磨石，长柄草叉，活手搬子，大号的镰刀，割草机，清雪铲，斧子柄儿，牛奶桶，水桶，空粮食袋子，生锈的捕鼠夹等等。这是燕子们喜欢来筑巢的谷仓。这里的一切都是属于芬的舅舅，霍默·L·祖克曼先生的。
威伯的新家在谷仓的下层，正好在牛棚底下。祖克曼先生知道牛粪堆是养小猪的好地方。猪喜欢温暖，而谷仓下朝南的地窖正是温暖而又舒适的地方。
芬差不多每天都来看威伯。她找到一张没人要的挤奶凳，于是便把凳子搬到紧挨着威伯的猪圈的羊圈旁。整个漫长的下午，她就这么静静地坐在那里，望着威伯，想着，听着。绵羊不久便认识她，并信任她了。和羊住在一起的母鹅也是。所有的动物都信任她，因为她是那么的文静、和善。祖克曼先生不让她把威伯带出去，也不让她进猪圈。不过，他告诉芬，如果她愿意，她坐在凳子上看威伯多久都行。能靠近威伯她就感到很幸福了；知道芬就坐在他家的外面，威伯也感到无比的快活。只是他却再不能做从前的乐事了——不能再散步，不能再坐婴儿车，也不能再去游泳了。
六月的一个下午，差不多两个月大的威伯游荡到他在谷仓外的院子里。那天芬没像往常一样来看他。站在阳光下的威伯，觉得孤单而又无聊。
“在这里从没任何事儿可做，”他想。他慢慢地走到食槽前，用鼻子搜寻着，想找找是否有忘了吃的午餐。他发现了一小截土豆皮，就把它吃了下去。他感到背有点儿痒，就斜靠到栅栏上，在木板上使劲的蹭着。当他蹭腻了，便走回他的家门口，爬到牛粪堆顶上，坐了下来。他不想睡，也不想再乱拱了，他厌倦了再这么静静的傻站着，也厌倦了睡觉。”我才活了不到两个月，就对生活厌烦了，”他说。他又往院子里去了。
“当我来到这儿，”他说，“除了回家没别的地方可去。当我进了家，除了院子也没别的地方可逛。”
“你错了，我的朋友，我的朋友。”一个声音说。
威伯往栅栏那边看去，发现一只母鹅就站在那里。
“你不用老呆在那个肮脏的-小 肮脏的-小 肮脏的-小院子里，”母鹅说得相当的快。“这儿有一块木板松了。推开它，推-推-推开它，就能够出去！”
“什么？”威伯说。“说慢一点儿！”
“让-让-让，让我冒险重复一遍，”母鹅说，“我的意思是，建议你跑出去。这外面的世界精彩极了。”
“你是说有块木板松了？”
“那就是我要说的，那就是。”母鹅说。
威伯走到栅栏旁，发现母鹅说得对——真的有一块木板松了。他低下头，闭起眼，用力撞过去。木板松开了。没用一分钟，他就挤过了栅栏，来到院子外的长草丛中了。母鹅嘎嘎大笑起来。
“自由的滋味如何？”她问。
“我喜欢，”威伯说。“我的意思是说，我想我喜欢这感觉。”
实际上，当威伯站在栅栏外，望着这个与自己毫无阻隔的大大的世界的时候，他只有种梦幻般的，说不清的感觉。
“你说我去哪儿比较好？”
“你喜欢的任何地方，你喜欢的任何地方，”母鹅说。“到果园那里去，把路上的草皮翻出来！到花园去，把萝卜拱出来！拱开一切！吃草！找玉米粒儿！寻找燕麦！把一切都压倒！蹦高和跳舞，后脚立地跳起来！走过果园，去树林里漫步！在你年轻时世界是多么美妙。”
“我明白你的意思，”威伯回答。他在空气中跳跃着，转了几个圈儿，又跑了几步，才停了下来，四处搜寻着，嗅着午后的气息，不久，他向果园走去。他停到一棵苹果树荫下，把他强壮的鼻子插进土里，开始尽情地拱、挖、掘。他感到非常的快活。在有人注意到他之前，他已经掘起很多土了。祖克曼太太是第一个看见他的。她从厨房的窗子里望见了他，便开始喊人。
“霍——默！”她喊。“猪跑出来了！鲁维！猪跑了！霍默！鲁维！猪跑了。他在那棵苹果树下面呢。”
“现在麻烦来了，”威伯想。“现在我要被抓住了。”
母鹅也听见了她的吵嚷，便对威伯大喊。“跑-跑-跑到下坡去，往树林里跑，树林！”她拼命地嚷。“他们在树林里永远-永远-永远抓不住你。”
听到这场骚动的长毛狗从谷仓里跑出去追。祖克曼先生听到喊声，忙从工作间里跑出来，放下了手中正在修理的农具。在龙须菜地里拔草的雇工鲁维，听到喊声，也赶紧跑了出来。每个人都在朝威伯逼近！威伯不知所措了。到树林的路似乎是那么远，而且，他还从没进过树林，也不知道是否会喜欢呆在树林里呢。
“绕到他身后去，鲁维，”祖克曼先生说，“把他朝谷仓这边赶！小心点儿——别吓坏他！我去拿一桶猪食来。”
威伯逃跑的消息在这里的动物中间迅速传开了。以前从没有任何一只动物能逃离祖克曼先生的农场呢，因此这事情引起了大家极大的兴趣。母鹅对离她最近的母牛嚷道，威伯自由了，不久所有的母牛都知道了这个新闻。然后一头母牛把这消息告诉了一只绵羊，不久所有的绵羊也知道了。羊羔们又从他们的母亲那里了解了一切。谷仓的马厩里的马们，竖起的耳朵也听到了母鹅的喊叫，因此不久所有的马也明白发生了什么事儿。“威伯逃了，”他们说。每一个动物都兴奋地抬起头，变得分外的激动，因为他们知道他们的一个朋友已经获得了自由，再不用被紧紧的关在圈里了。
威伯不知该怎么做，往哪里跑。看起来好像每个人都在追他。“如果这就是美好的自由，”他想，“我还不如被关在我自己的院子里呢。”
长毛狗从一边悄悄地靠过来，雇工鲁维也正从另一边渐渐逼近。祖克曼太太摆出了一副准备拦截的架势——如果威伯要往花园里跑的话。现在，祖克曼先生拎着桶正朝威伯走过来。“这真太可怕了，”威伯想。“为什么芬还不来？”他开始哭了。
母鹅给威伯发出一个又一个指令。
“别傻站着，威伯！快逃，快逃！”母鹅大叫。“转圈跳，往我这边儿跳，溜过来冲出去，过来出去，过来出去！往树林跑！迂回前进！”
长毛狗猛地蹿起来咬向威伯的后腿。威伯蹦着高儿跑开。鲁维冲上前去抓威伯。祖克曼太太对鲁维尖叫起来。母鹅还在为威伯加油。威伯从鲁维的双腿间逃了出去，鲁维没有抓到威伯，反一把搂住了长毛狗。“干得好，干得好！”母鹅叫道。“再来一个，再来一个！”
“往下坡跑！”母牛们出主意。
“向我这里跑！”公鹅尖叫。
“往上坡跑！”绵羊大喊。
“迂回前进！”母鹅嘎嘎地叫着。
“跳，蹦高儿！”公鸡叫。
“小心鲁维！”母牛提醒。
“小心祖克曼！”公鹅扯着嗓子喊。
“小心那条狗！”绵羊大叫。
“听我的，听我的！”母鹅尖叫。
可怜的威伯被他们的乱叫弄得又晕又怕。他可不喜欢成为这些乱子的焦点。他本想试着听从朋友们给他的建议，可他不能同时既往上坡跑，又往下坡跑，而且，他也不能一边蹦起来一边迂回前进，更何况他哭喊得这么厉害，几乎弄不清周围都发生了什么事。真的，威伯毕竟只不过是一头比婴儿大不多少的小猪罢了。他只希望芬此刻在场，能把自己抱起来安慰一番。当他抬头看到祖克曼先生就静静地站在身旁，手里拎着盛满热乎乎的稀饭的食桶时，才稍稍宽了心。他耸起鼻子使劲儿闻着。那些味道多鲜美呀——有热牛奶，土豆皮，粗麦粉，凯洛格牌玉米片，还有祖克曼先生早餐吃剩的酥饼呢。
“来呀，小猪！”祖克曼先生说着，敲了敲食桶。“来呀，小猪！”
威伯朝那只桶走了一步。
“不——不——不！”母鹅说。“这桶是个并不新鲜的骗局，威伯。别上套儿！别上套儿！他是想以此诱捕你。他正在用好吃的诱惑你的肚子。”
威伯不在乎。这食物闻起来太开胃了。他又朝食桶走了一步。
“小猪，小猪！”祖克曼先生甜蜜地叫着，开始慢慢地往谷仓方向走，同时弄出一副纯真的表情回头看着，好像他不知道这头小白猪正跟在他后面走一样。
“你会后悔-后悔-后悔的。”母鹅叫道。
威伯不在乎。他还在朝食桶走。
“你会失去你的自由的，”母鹅大喊。“一小时的自由要比一大桶猪食更可贵！”
威伯还是不在乎。
祖克曼先生走到猪圈附近，便爬过栅栏，把猪食倒进了猪食槽。然后他把那块松动的木板从栅栏上全拽下来，好让威伯能很容易的进去。
“再想想，再想想！”母鹅提醒道。
威伯什么别的也没想。他一步步走进栅栏，到了他的院子里。他走向食槽，吸食了半天，大口大口地喝着牛奶，嚼着酥饼。能再回家真是太好了。
就在威伯饱餐之际，鲁维取了把锤子和一些八分长的钉子来，把那块板子钉了回去。然后，他和祖克曼先生懒洋洋地倚在栅栏旁。祖克曼先生用一根柴枝搔着威伯的后背。
“他真是一头猪，”鲁维说。
“是的，他会成为一头好猪的，”祖克曼先生说。
威伯听到了对他的赞扬。他感到肚子里的牛奶暖暖的。他也很愿意在那根柴枝上蹭痒。他既幸福又满足，想去睡一觉了。这真是一个令人疲倦的下午。虽然此刻只不过才四点钟，威伯却准备上床就寝了。
“我真的太年轻，还不适合一个人在这世上闯，” 躺下时他这么想。
收听单词发音 |
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manure
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| n.粪，肥，肥粒；vt.施肥 | |
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perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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loft
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| n.阁楼，顶楼 | |
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itched
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| v.发痒( itch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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wrenches
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| n.一拧( wrench的名词复数 )；（身体关节的）扭伤；扳手；（尤指离别的）悲痛v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的第三人称单数 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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scythes
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| n.（长柄）大镰刀( scythe的名词复数 )v.（长柄）大镰刀( scythe的第三人称单数 ) | |
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shovels
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| n.铲子( shovel的名词复数 )；锹；推土机、挖土机等的)铲；铲形部份v.铲子( shovel的第三人称单数 )；锹；推土机、挖土机等的)铲；铲形部份 | |
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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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orchard
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| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
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prance
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| v.（马）腾跃，(人)神气活现地走 | |
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plowed
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| v.耕( plow的过去式和过去分词 )；犁耕；费力穿过 | |
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commotion
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| n.骚动，动乱 | |
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hind
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| adj.后面的，后部的 | |
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pricked
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| 刺，扎，戳( prick的过去式和过去分词 )； 刺伤； 刺痛； 使剧痛 | |
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sneaking
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| a.秘密的，不公开的 | |
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dodge
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| v.闪开，躲开，避开；n.妙计，诡计 | |
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dodged
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| v.闪躲( dodge的过去式和过去分词 )；回避 | |
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honked
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| v.（使）发出雁叫似的声音，鸣（喇叭），按（喇叭）( honk的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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flakes
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| 小薄片( flake的名词复数 )； （尤指）碎片； 雪花； 古怪的人 | |
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lure
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| n.吸引人的东西，诱惑物；vt.引诱，吸引 | |
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