夏洛的網(wǎng) Chapter 1：早飯前

"Where's Papa going with the ax?" said Fern to her mother as they were setting the table for breakfast.

“爸爸拿著斧子去哪兒了?”在他們收拾桌子準(zhǔn)備吃早飯時(shí)，芬問她的母親。

"Out to the hog house," replied Mrs. Arable. "Some pigs were born last night.""I don't see why he needs an ax," continued Fern, who was only eight.

“去豬圈了，”阿拉貝爾太太回答。“昨晚生了幾只小豬。”“我不明白他為什么需要一把斧子，”只有八歲的芬繼續(xù)說。

"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?" shrieked Fern. "You mean kill it? Just because it's smaller than the others?"Mrs. Arable put a pitcher of cream on the table. "Don't yell,Fern!" she said. "Your father is right. The pig would probably die anyway."Fern pushed a chair out of the way and ran outdoors. The grass was wet and the earth smelled of spring time. Fern's sneakers were sopping by the time she caught up with her father.

“哦，”她的母親說，“其中的一頭是個(gè)小個(gè)子。它長得又小又弱，沒有任何可留下來的價(jià)值了。所以你爸爸決定去消滅它。”“消滅它?”芬尖叫。“你是說殺死它?就因?yàn)樗葎e人的個(gè)子小?”阿拉貝爾太太把一罐乳酪放到桌上。“別嚷，芬!”她說。“你爸做的對(duì)。那頭豬不論如何都會(huì)死的。”芬推開擋在面前的椅子就往門外跑。草地濕漉漉的，泥土里散發(fā)著春天的氣息。等芬趕上她的爸爸時(shí)，她的運(yùn)動(dòng)膠鞋全都濕透了。

"Please don't kill it!" she sobbed. "It's unfair."Mr. Arable stopped walking.

“請(qǐng)別殺它!”她嗚咽道。“這不公平!”阿拉貝爾先生止住了腳。

"Fern," he said gently, "you will have to learn to control yourself.""Control myself?" yelled 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 ax and tried to pull it out of her father's hand.

“芬，”他溫柔的說，“你該學(xué)會(huì)自我控制。”“自我控制?”芬哭叫道，“這可是一件生死大事!你卻對(duì)我說什么自我控制!”淚水流到芬的面頰上。她抓住了斧頭柄，想把它從父親手中搶下來。

"Fern," said Mr. Arable, "I know more about raising a litter ofpigs than you do. A weakling makes trouble. Now run along!""But it's unfair," cried Fern. "The pig couldn't help being 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 at his daughter with love. "But this is different. A little girl is onething, a little runty pig is another.""I see no difference," replied Fern, still hanging on to theax. "This is the most terrible case of injustice I ever heard of."A queer look came over John Arable's face. He seemed almost ready to cry himself.

“芬，”阿拉貝爾先生說，“養(yǎng)小豬的事我比你知道的多。一個(gè)體質(zhì)差的小豬很難養(yǎng)活的?，F(xiàn)在你該放我走了!”“可是這不公平，”芬哭叫著。“這頭豬愿意讓自己生下來就小嗎，它愿意嗎?如果我生下來時(shí)也很瘦小，你就會(huì)殺死我嗎?”阿拉貝爾先生微笑了。“當(dāng)然不會(huì)了，”他說著，低下頭慈愛地望著女兒。“但這是不一樣的。一個(gè)小女孩是一碼事兒，一個(gè)小瘦豬是另一碼事兒。”“我看沒什么不一樣，”芬回答著，仍死抓著斧柄不放，“這是我曾經(jīng)聽到過的最恐怖的案件!”約翰·阿拉貝爾先生的臉上出現(xiàn)了某種奇特的表情。他好像也要哭了。

"All right," he said." You go back to the house and I will bring the runt when I come in. I'll let you start it on a bottle, like a baby. Then you'll see what trouble a pig can be."When Mr. Arable returned to the house half an hour later, he carried a carton under his arm. Fern 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.

“好吧，”他說。“你先回家吧。等我回家，我會(huì)把那頭小豬帶回來。我將讓你用奶瓶喂他，象喂嬰兒一樣。那時(shí)你就會(huì)明白一頭小豬會(huì)多么麻煩了。”半小時(shí)后，阿拉貝爾先生胳膊下夾著一個(gè)紙板盒回了家。芬正在樓上換她的運(yùn)動(dòng)鞋。廚房的桌子上擺好了早餐，房間里都是咖啡，薰肉的香味，濕濕的灰泥味兒，還有從爐子里蕩出來的柴火煙味兒。

"Put it on her chair!" said Mrs. Arable. Mr. Arable set the carton down at Fern's place. Then he walked to the sink and washed his hands and dried them on the roller towel.

“把它放到她的椅子上!”阿拉貝爾太太說。阿拉貝爾先生把紙板盒放到芬的位子上。然后他到洗手池洗了手，用池邊滾筒上的毛巾把手擦干。

Fern came slowly down the stairs. Her eyes were red from crying.

芬慢慢地下了樓。因?yàn)閯倓偪捱^，她的眼還是紅紅的。

As she approached her chair, the carton wobbled, and there was ascratching noise.. Fern looked at her father. Then she lifted the lid of the carton. There, inside, looking up at her, was the newborn pig. It was a white one. The morning light shone through its ears,turning them pink.

當(dāng)她走近她的椅子，紙板盒開始晃動(dòng)起來，里面?zhèn)鞒隽俗ドβ?。芬看了看她的父親。然后她掀起了盒蓋。從那里面打量著她的，正是那新生的小豬。它是白色的。早晨的陽光把它的耳朵映得粉紅。

"He's yours," said Mr. Arable. "Saved from an untimely death.

“他是你的了，” 阿拉貝爾先生說，“是你使他免于一死。愿上帝能原諒我這愚蠢的行為。”

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 moment her brother Avery came into the room. Avery was ten. He was heavily armed--an air rifle in one hand, a wooden dagger in the other.

芬不錯(cuò)眼珠地看著這頭小小豬。“哦，”她輕聲贊美，“哦，看他呀!他漂亮極了。”她小心的關(guān)上了蓋子。她先吻了爸爸，又吻了媽媽。然后她又揭開蓋子，把小豬舉起來，讓他貼到自己的臉上。這時(shí)，她的哥哥埃弗里走了進(jìn)來。埃弗里十歲了。他的身上可是全副武裝呢——一只手里拿著氣槍，一只手里攥著一把木制匕首。

"What's that?" he demanded. "What's Fern got?""She's got a guest for breakfast," said Mrs. Arable. "Wash your hands and face, Avery!""Let's see it!" said Avery, setting his gun 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 and eat your breakfast, Avery!" said his mother. "The school bus will be along in half an hour.""Can I have a pig, too, Pop?" asked Avery.

“那是什么?”他問。“芬得了什么了?”“她有了一位來吃早餐的客人，” 阿拉貝爾太太說。“埃弗里，去洗手洗臉!”“讓我看看它嘛!”埃弗里說著，放下他的槍。“你說這可憐的小東西是一頭豬?這不過是一頭豬的小型復(fù)制品而已——他還沒有一只白老鼠大呢。”“去洗臉吃飯，埃弗里!”他的媽媽說。“半小時(shí)內(nèi)校車就要來了。”“我也能有一頭小豬嗎，爸?”埃弗里問。

"No, I only distribute pigs to early risers," said Mr.

“不，我只把小豬送給早起的人，” 阿拉貝爾先生說，

Arable. "Fern was up at daylight, trying to rid world of injustice.

“為了制止這世界上的不公正行為，芬天剛亮就起床了。

As a result, she now has a pig. A small one, to be sure, but nevertheless a pig. It just shows what can happen if a person gets out of bed promptly. Let's eat!"But Fern couldn't eat until her pig had had a drink of milk.

結(jié)果，她現(xiàn)在有了一頭小豬。當(dāng)然了，他的確是特別小，可不管怎么說這都是一頭小豬。這只是表明，如果一個(gè)人能迅速地從床上爬起來，會(huì)有什么樣的事情發(fā)生。讓我們開飯吧!”但是芬要等到她的小豬喝完牛奶后才肯吃飯。

Mrs. Arable found a baby's nursing bottle and a rubber nipple. She poured warm milk into the bottle, fitted the nipple over the top,and handed it to Fern. "Give him his breakfast!" she said.

阿拉貝爾太太找出了一個(gè)嬰兒用的奶瓶和奶嘴兒。她把溫乎乎的牛奶倒進(jìn)奶瓶里，又把奶嘴兒安上，才把奶瓶遞給了芬。“給他吃早餐吧!”她說。

A minute later, Fern was seated on the floor in the corner of the kitchen with her infant between her knees, teaching it to suck from the bottle. The pig, although tiny, had a good appetite and caught on quickly.

一分鐘后，芬坐在廚房角落里的地板上，把她的小寶貝抱在膝頭，開始教他如何從瓶中喝奶。這小豬雖然那么小，卻有一個(gè)好胃口，而且也學(xué)得很快。

The school bus honked from the road.

路上響起了校車的喇叭聲。

"Run!" commanded Mrs. Arable, taking the pig from Fern and slipping a doughnut into her hand. Avery grabbed his gun and another doughnut.

“快跑!” 阿拉貝爾太太命令著，把小豬從芬那里抱下來，將一張油煎圈餅放到她的手上。埃弗里趕忙抓起他的槍和另一張油煎圈餅。

The children ran out to the road and climbed into the bus. Fern took no notice of the others in the bus. She just sat and stared out of the window, thinking what a blissful world it was and how lucky she was to have entire charge of a pig. By the time the bus reached school, Fern had named her pet, selecting the most beautiful name she could think of.

孩子們跑到路邊，上了校車。在車?yán)?，芬沒有注意其他的人。她只是坐在那里朝車窗外看，想著這是個(gè)多美好的世界，自己又是多么幸運(yùn)，居然可以擁有一頭小豬。在車開到學(xué)校的那一刻，芬已經(jīng)給她的寶貝起好了名字，選的是她能想到的最漂亮的名字。

"Its name is Wilbur," she whispered to herself.

“它的名字是威伯。”她喃喃的自語。

She was still thinking about the pig when the teacher said:"Fern, what is the capital of Pennsylvania?""Wilbur," replied Fern, dreamily. The pupils giggled. Fern blushed.

當(dāng)老師在課堂里問她：“芬，賓夕法尼亞洲的首府叫什么?”時(shí)，她還在想著那頭小豬。“威伯。”芬出神的回答。同學(xué)們格格地笑起來。芬臉紅了。

"Where's Papa going with the 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 ax," 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?" shrieked Fern. "You mean kill it? Just because it's smaller than the others?"Mrs. Arable put a pitcher of cream on the table. "Don't yell,Fern!" she said. "Your father is right. The pig would probably die anyway."Fern pushed a chair out of the way and ran outdoors. The grass was wet and the earth smelled of spring time. Fern's sneakers were sopping by the time she caught up with her father.

"Please don't kill it!" she sobbed. "It's unfair."Mr. Arable stopped walking.

"Fern," he said gently, "you will have to learn to control yourself.""Control myself?" yelled 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 ax and tried to pull it out of her father's hand.

"Fern," said Mr. Arable, "I know more about raising a litter ofpigs than you do. A weakling makes trouble. Now run along!""But it's unfair," cried Fern. "The pig couldn't help being 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 at his daughter with love. "But this is different. A little girl is onething, a little runty pig is another.""I see no difference," replied Fern, still hanging on to theax. "This is the most terrible case of injustice I ever heard of."A queer look came over John Arable's face. He seemed almost ready to cry himself.

"All right," he said." You go back to the house and I will bring the runt when I come in. I'll let you start it on a bottle, like a baby. Then you'll see what trouble a pig can be."When Mr. Arable returned to the house half an hour later, he carried a carton under his arm. Fern 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 at Fern's place. Then he walked to the sink and washed his hands and dried them on the roller towel.

Fern came slowly down the stairs. Her eyes were red from crying.

As she approached her chair, the carton wobbled, and there was ascratching noise.. Fern looked at her father. Then she lifted the lid of the carton. There, inside, looking up at her, was the newborn pig. It was a white one. The morning light shone through its ears,turning them pink.

"He's 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 moment her brother Avery came into the room. Avery was ten. He was heavily armed--an air rifle in one hand, a wooden dagger in the other.

"What's that?" he demanded. "What's Fern got?""She's got a guest for breakfast," said Mrs. Arable. "Wash your hands and face, Avery!""Let's see it!" said Avery, setting his gun 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 and eat your breakfast, Avery!" said his mother. "The school bus will be along in half an hour.""Can I have a pig, too, Pop?" asked Avery.

"No, I only distribute pigs to early risers," said Mr.

Arable. "Fern was up at daylight, trying to rid world of injustice.

As a result, she now has a pig. A small one, to be sure, but nevertheless a pig. It just shows what can happen if a person gets out of bed promptly. Let's eat!"But Fern couldn't eat until her pig had had a drink of milk.

Mrs. Arable found a baby's nursing bottle and a rubber nipple. She poured warm milk into the bottle, fitted the nipple over the top,and handed it to Fern. "Give him his breakfast!" she said.

A minute later, Fern was seated on the floor in the corner of the kitchen with her infant between her knees, teaching it to suck from the bottle. The pig, although tiny, had a good appetite and caught on quickly.

The school bus honked from the road.

"Run!" commanded Mrs. Arable, taking the pig from Fern and slipping a doughnut into her hand. Avery grabbed his gun and another doughnut.

The children ran out to the road and climbed into the bus. Fern took no notice of the others in the bus. She just sat and stared out of the window, thinking what a blissful world it was and how lucky she was to have entire charge of a pig. By the time the bus reached school, Fern had named her pet, selecting the most beautiful name she could think of.

"Its name is Wilbur," she whispered to herself.

She was still thinking about the pig when the teacher said:"Fern, what is the capital of Pennsylvania?""Wilbur," replied Fern, dreamily. The pupils giggled. Fern blushed.

“爸爸拿著斧子去哪兒了?”在他們收拾桌子準(zhǔn)備吃早飯時(shí)，芬問她的母親。

“去豬圈了，”阿拉貝爾太太回答。“昨晚生了幾只小豬。”“我不明白他為什么需要一把斧子，”只有八歲的芬繼續(xù)說。

“哦，”她的母親說，“其中的一頭是個(gè)小個(gè)子。它長得又小又弱，沒有任何可留下來的價(jià)值了。所以你爸爸決定去消滅它。”“消滅它?”芬尖叫。“你是說殺死它?就因?yàn)樗葎e人的個(gè)子小?”阿拉貝爾太太把一罐乳酪放到桌上。“別嚷，芬!”她說。“你爸做的對(duì)。那頭豬不論如何都會(huì)死的。”芬推開擋在面前的椅子就往門外跑。草地濕漉漉的，泥土里散發(fā)著春天的氣息。等芬趕上她的爸爸時(shí)，她的運(yùn)動(dòng)膠鞋全都濕透了。

“請(qǐng)別殺它!”她嗚咽道。“這不公平!”阿拉貝爾先生止住了腳。

“芬，”他溫柔的說，“你該學(xué)會(huì)自我控制。”“自我控制?”芬哭叫道，“這可是一件生死大事!你卻對(duì)我說什么自我控制!”淚水流到芬的面頰上。她抓住了斧頭柄，想把它從父親手中搶下來。

“芬，”阿拉貝爾先生說，“養(yǎng)小豬的事我比你知道的多。一個(gè)體質(zhì)差的小豬很難養(yǎng)活的。現(xiàn)在你該放我走了!”“可是這不公平，”芬哭叫著。“這頭豬愿意讓自己生下來就小嗎，它愿意嗎?如果我生下來時(shí)也很瘦小，你就會(huì)殺死我嗎?”阿拉貝爾先生微笑了。“當(dāng)然不會(huì)了，”他說著，低下頭慈愛地望著女兒。“但這是不一樣的。一個(gè)小女孩是一碼事兒，一個(gè)小瘦豬是另一碼事兒。”“我看沒什么不一樣，”芬回答著，仍死抓著斧柄不放，“這是我曾經(jīng)聽到過的最恐怖的案件!”約翰·阿拉貝爾先生的臉上出現(xiàn)了某種奇特的表情。他好像也要哭了。

“好吧，”他說。“你先回家吧。等我回家，我會(huì)把那頭小豬帶回來。我將讓你用奶瓶喂他，象喂嬰兒一樣。那時(shí)你就會(huì)明白一頭小豬會(huì)多么麻煩了。”半小時(shí)后，阿拉貝爾先生胳膊下夾著一個(gè)紙板盒回了家。芬正在樓上換她的運(yùn)動(dòng)鞋。廚房的桌子上擺好了早餐，房間里都是咖啡，薰肉的香味，濕濕的灰泥味兒，還有從爐子里蕩出來的柴火煙味兒。

“把它放到她的椅子上!”阿拉貝爾太太說。阿拉貝爾先生把紙板盒放到芬的位子上。然后他到洗手池洗了手，用池邊滾筒上的毛巾把手擦干。

芬慢慢地下了樓。因?yàn)閯倓偪捱^，她的眼還是紅紅的。

當(dāng)她走近她的椅子，紙板盒開始晃動(dòng)起來，里面?zhèn)鞒隽俗ドβ暋７铱戳丝此母赣H。然后她掀起了盒蓋。從那里面打量著她的，正是那新生的小豬。它是白色的。早晨的陽光把它的耳朵映得粉紅。

“他是你的了，” 阿拉貝爾先生說，“是你使他免于一死。愿上帝能原諒我這愚蠢的行為。”

芬不錯(cuò)眼珠地看著這頭小小豬。“哦，”她輕聲贊美，“哦，看他呀!他漂亮極了。”她小心的關(guān)上了蓋子。她先吻了爸爸，又吻了媽媽。然后她又揭開蓋子，把小豬舉起來，讓他貼到自己的臉上。這時(shí)，她的哥哥埃弗里走了進(jìn)來。埃弗里十歲了。他的身上可是全副武裝呢——一只手里拿著氣槍，一只手里攥著一把木制匕首。

“那是什么?”他問。“芬得了什么了?”“她有了一位來吃早餐的客人，” 阿拉貝爾太太說。“埃弗里，去洗手洗臉!”“讓我看看它嘛!”埃弗里說著，放下他的槍。“你說這可憐的小東西是一頭豬?這不過是一頭豬的小型復(fù)制品而已——他還沒有一只白老鼠大呢。”“去洗臉吃飯，埃弗里!”他的媽媽說。“半小時(shí)內(nèi)校車就要來了。”“我也能有一頭小豬嗎，爸?”埃弗里問。

“不，我只把小豬送給早起的人，” 阿拉貝爾先生說，

“為了制止這世界上的不公正行為，芬天剛亮就起床了。

結(jié)果，她現(xiàn)在有了一頭小豬。當(dāng)然了，他的確是特別小，可不管怎么說這都是一頭小豬。這只是表明，如果一個(gè)人能迅速地從床上爬起來，會(huì)有什么樣的事情發(fā)生。讓我們開飯吧!”但是芬要等到她的小豬喝完牛奶后才肯吃飯。

阿拉貝爾太太找出了一個(gè)嬰兒用的奶瓶和奶嘴兒。她把溫乎乎的牛奶倒進(jìn)奶瓶里，又把奶嘴兒安上，才把奶瓶遞給了芬。“給他吃早餐吧!”她說。

一分鐘后，芬坐在廚房角落里的地板上，把她的小寶貝抱在膝頭，開始教他如何從瓶中喝奶。這小豬雖然那么小，卻有一個(gè)好胃口，而且也學(xué)得很快。

路上響起了校車的喇叭聲。

“快跑!” 阿拉貝爾太太命令著，把小豬從芬那里抱下來，將一張油煎圈餅放到她的手上。埃弗里趕忙抓起他的槍和另一張油煎圈餅。

孩子們跑到路邊，上了校車。在車?yán)?，芬沒有注意其他的人。她只是坐在那里朝車窗外看，想著這是個(gè)多美好的世界，自己又是多么幸運(yùn)，居然可以擁有一頭小豬。在車開到學(xué)校的那一刻，芬已經(jīng)給她的寶貝起好了名字，選的是她能想到的最漂亮的名字。

“它的名字是威伯。”她喃喃的自語。

當(dāng)老師在課堂里問她：“芬，賓夕法尼亞洲的首府叫什么?”時(shí)，她還在想著那頭小豬。“威伯。”芬出神的回答。同學(xué)們格格地笑起來。芬臉紅了。