And we're staying in the countryside now on BBC Radio 4 for the first part of our family drama for the Easter holidays.
A best-loved story of saved bacon as dawn breaks over a New England farm.
Listen to the sounds of the morning.
Very early morning.
In fact, the sun isn't even up yet.
Listen to the crickets.
Woo!
The hoot owls.
A frog by the pond.
A dog up at the next farm.
And today, there's another sound.
Some brand new pigs have been born.
There's one of them right now.
His name is... Well, actually, he doesn't have a name yet.
For the moment, he's still just a little pig.
But, as you'll see, He isn't just any ordinary pig.
Charlotte's Web by E.B.
White, with Sophie Thompson as Charlotte, Dominic Cooper as Wilbur, Ken Campbell as Templeton, the Rat and Peter Marinka as the narrator.
Breakfast time, Avery!
Oh, where is that boy?
Hurry up, honey, will you?
It's on the table!
Mama, what's the capital of Pennsylvania?
I don't know.
Morning, Bird.
Morning, Papa.
Breakfast, John.
I have a job to do before I sit down.
Oh, I think it's Harry Bird.
Where's Papa going with that axe?
Oh, out to the hog house.
Some pigs were born last night.
I don't see why he needs an axe.
Well, one of the pigs is a runt.
It's very small and weak, so your father's decided to do away with it.
Do away with it?
You mean kill it?
Just because it's smaller than the others, that's no reason to kill it.
Papa, I've got to stop him.
Oh, Fern, come back.
Your father's right.
The pig will probably die anyway.
Avery, breakfast!
Please don't kill it.
It's unfair.
You'll have to learn to control yourself.
Control myself?
This is a matter of life and death, and you talk about controlling myself?
Let go.
Let go of the axe.
I know a lot more about raising a litter of pigs than you do.
A weakling makes trouble.
Now run along.
But it's unfair.
The pig couldn't help being small, could it?
If I had been very small, would you have killed me?
Certainly not, but this is different.
A little girl is one thing.
A little runty pig is another.
I see no difference.
This is the most terrible case of injustice I ever heard of.
Well, all right.
You can keep him.
He's yours.
Thank you, Papa.
Thank you.
Thank you.
And saved from an untimely death.
May the good Lord forgive me this foolishness.
Avery, get down here now, please.
Coming!
Look, Mama.
What?
Oh, John.
She can start him on a bottle like a baby.
Then she'll see what trouble a pig can be.
Look at him.
He's absolutely perfect.
What's that?
What's she got in that box?
She has got a guest for breakfast.
Now you wash up and get your breakfast.
The school bus will be here in half an hour.
Let's see it.
You call that miserable thing a pig?
It's no bigger than a white rat.
Can I have a pig too, Pop?
No, I only distribute pigs to early risers.
Fern was up at daylight trying to rid the world of injustice.
As a result, she now has a pig.
A small pig, but a pig nevertheless.
It just shows what can happen if a person gets out of bed promptly.
Now, let's you and I go wash our hands.
Oh, Pa.
Come on now.
Fern, honey, I found a baby bottle.
Oh, what's his name anyway?
Why, I don't know.
He can stay in here where it's warm for now.
My very own pig.
Oh, you're looking at me.
See how the light shines through your ears and turns them pink?
Now I have to name you.
A perfect name for a perfect pig.
Fred.
That's a good name.
But not for you.
Clarence?
No, you don't look like a Clarence.
Maximilian, because you're worth a million to me.
Maybe I'm trying too hard.
Let's see.
Barney.
Herman.
Uten.
Warren.
Willie.
Wilbur.
William.
Wait a minute.
Wilbur.
Wilbur.
Wilbur.
What a beautiful name.
For the first few days of his life, Wilbur was allowed to live in a box near the stove in the kitchen.
With Fern's care, Wilbur grew and grew.
Then one day, Mrs. Arable complained, That pig is too big for my kitchen.
So he was moved to a bigger box in the woodshed and graduated from a bottle to slops.
Wilbur was what's known as a spring pig. which simply means he was born in the spring.
By the time he was five weeks old, he had grown even more.
Hello, Wilbur.
I'm happy to see you, too.
You know, you're not a runt anymore.
In fact, you're quite a specimen.
Breakfast time, Wilbur.
Skim milk, potato skins, leftover sandwiches, and marmalade drippings.
Yes!
Well, Fern, he's five weeks old now.
He's big and strong and healthy.
And he's ready to be sold.
No, Papa.
You can't sell him.
You just can't.
He's eating too much.
He's got to go, Fern.
You've had your fun raising a baby pig.
But Wilbur is not a baby pig any longer and has to be sold.
I've already sold his 10 brothers and sisters.
Huh?
Look, he's fainted.
Wilbur, wake up.
Oh, please wake up.
Oh, they're there.
Oh, poor thing.
All right.
Thank you, Papa.
Maybe we can call the Zuckerman.
Your Uncle Homer sometimes raises a pig.
And if Wilbur goes there to live, you can walk down the road and visit him any time you like.
Oh, thank you, Papa.
Thank you.
Come along.
We'll call Uncle Homer.
Can Wilbur come too?
Why not?
Maybe we'll let him make the call himself.
It's not funny.
He can talk, you know.
Oh, Fern, what an imagination.
Homer Zuckerman, are you seriously planning to keep that pig in this dirty old barn?
I certainly am, Edith.
Dirt, spider webs.
That pig ought to feel right at home in here.
Okay, Lurvie, put the trough down over there.
Show a thing, Mr. Zuckerman.
There.
That should do it.
Well, I just hope this pig's not going to be more trouble than it's worth.
Oh, that'll be the arable's.
Aye.
I still can't believe we're gonna have a new pig around here.
But Fern seems so desperate to find a new home for it, I just couldn't say no.
Anyway, she only asked six dollars for it.
When the pig gets big enough to slaughter, he'll be worth a lot more than six dollars.
Uncle Homer!
Are you in there?
Here they are.
Come on in, Fern!
Hi, Uncle Homer.
Hi, Lurvie.
I'd like you to meet Wilbur.
Oh, he has a name, does he?
Well, here's your new home, pig, Wilbur.
Hope you like it.
Lurvie, the fence in the far field has a hole in it.
You better patch it up real good.
We don't want that pig getting out.
Sure thing, Mr. Zuckerman.
Your Aunt Eva's just opened a great big can of peaches.
Let's go in and have a dish.
Okay, thanks.
Just let me stay with Wilbur for just a minute till he gets used to his surroundings.
Sure thing.
It's very nice here, Wilbur.
And I can come down and visit you almost every day.
Now I better go.
I'll see you tomorrow.
I know I'm going to miss living with the arable family, but this place doesn't seem too bad.
It's a very large barn, and old, I'll bet.
I like the smell.
Hay and manure, horses and cows.
It has a peaceful smell, as though nothing bad could ever happen again in the whole world.
Firm was right.
I'm going to like it in here.
So this is our new resident.
That's right, relax and enjoy yourself while you can.
Oh yes, they'll treat you very well and fatten you up very nicely.
Then one day you'll wake up and bang, it's all over.
Hello?
Hello?
Hello?
Who are you?
The goose, the goose, the goose.
Oh.
Hi, goose.
But I only see one.
You introduced me to three.
No, no, no.
I tend to repeat, repeat, repeat myself.
Do you have a name besides Pig?
Yes.
They call me Wilbur.
Wilbur.
It's a pretty tacky name if you ask me.
Well, nobody, nobody, nobody asked you.
Who said that?
Templeton, the rat.
In person.
Well, er, ragtant.
I will admit it's nice to have a pig around the place again.
I haven't had delicious leftover slops in an age.
But the slops will be for me.
I'm sure you'll find it in your charitable little heart to share your food with dear old Templeton.
I'll just make a nest right here, under your trough.
What's all the commotion in here?
It's the old, old sheep and the little, little lamb.
We have a new resident.
His name is Wilbur.
Oh, yeah, the pig.
You know about me?
We overheard the Zuckermans discussing you.
They plan to keep you nice and comfortable and fatten you up with delicious slop.
Oh, I am going to like it here.
Just the same, we don't envy you.
You know why they want to make you fat and tender, don't you?
No, I don't.
Now, now, now, old sheep.
He'll learn soon enough.
Learn what?
Oh, nothing.
Nothing at all.
Nice to meet you, Wilbur.
Now, mind your manners.
Nice to meet you, Wilbur.
My pleasure, I'm sure.
Well...
I have eggs to hatch.
And I have dustbins to raid.
Good, good, good night, Wilbur.
Better get some rest after such a long day.
Yes, thank you, I will.
The animals seem nice, I think.
But I'm not sure about Templeton.
And I'm a trifle concerned about the old sheep's remarks.
You know why they want to make you fat and tender, don't you?
Well, I'm not going to worry about it just now.
I'm much too tired.
Oh no, morning already and it's raining.
I've made such grand plans for today.
I'm lonely and I know Fern won't come in such bad weather.
Honestly, I'm less than two months old and already I'm tired of living.
Morning, pig.
Breakfast time.
Lots of good leftovers today.
Skim milk, bits of donuts, wheat cakes with maple syrup, and custard pudding with raisins.
Oh, yes, a meal fit for a pig.
What?
What's wrong with you?
Don't tell me I have a sick pig on my hands.
Oh, I don't want to be giving you sulfur and molasses every other day.
Here, Wilbur, aren't you going to eat any of this?
I don't want food.
I want love.
I want a friend.
Fantastic.
All for me.
I want someone who'll play with me.
Goose, will you come over and play with me, Goose?
Sorry, sorry, sorry.
I had to sit on my eggs.
Eight of them.
Got to keep them toasty-oasty warm.
I'm no flibbity-ibbity-jibbit.
I'm expecting goslings.
Well, I didn't think you were expecting woodpeckers.
Nah.
Will you play with me, Lamb?
Certainly not.
I don't play with pigs.
Pigs mean less than nothing to me.
Oh, go play by yourself.
I don't play with pigs.
Templeton, will you play with me, Templeton?
Play?
Play?
I hardly know the meaning of the word.
Well, it means to have fun, to frolic, to run and skip and to make merry.
I'll never do those things if I can avoid them.
I prefer to spend my time eating, gnawing and spying.
I'm a glutton, not a memory maker.
No friends.
It's raining.
No fern.
No one to play with.
This has been the worst day of the whole of my life.
Do you want a friend, Wilbur?
I'll be your friend.
I watched you all night and I like you.
Where are you?
And who are you?
Salutations.
Salut-what?
Salutations.
What are they?
And where are you?
Salutations are greetings.
It's a fancy way of saying hello.
Look up here in the corner of the doorway.
Here I am.
Look, I'm waving.
Stretched across the upper part of the doorway was a big spider's web.
And hanging from the top, head down, was a large gray spider.
She was waving one of her eight legs at Wilbur in friendly greeting.
See me now?
Oh, yes.
Indeed.
How are you?
Good morning and salutations to you too.
Very pleased to meet you.
What is your name, please?
May I have your name?
My name is Charlotte.
Charlotte what?
Charlotte A. Kavatica, but you can call me Charlotte.
Charlotte.
I think you're beautiful.
Well, I am pretty, but then I'm a spider.
All spiders are rather nice looking.
I'm not as flashy as some, but I'll do.
And you're webbed.
It's beautiful, too.
It's my home.
It protects me, and I trap my food in it.
I'm so happy you'll be my friend.
In fact, it restores my appetite.
Will you join me?
No, thank you.
My breakfast is waiting for me on the other side of my web.
Oh.
What are you having?
A fly.
I caught it this morning.
You eat flies?
Certainly.
Flies, grasshoppers, beetles and moths.
Anything careless enough to get caught in my web.
Of course, I don't really eat them.
I drink their blood.
Help it.
It's the way I'm made.
You have your meals brought to you.
Nobody feeds me.
I live by my wits.
I have to be sharp and clever or I go hungry.
Anyway, if I didn't catch insects and eat them, there would soon be so many.
They'd destroy the earth, wipe out everything.
Really?
I wouldn't want that to happen.
Perhaps your web is a good thing after all.
Now, if you'll excuse me.
I'm going to have my breakfast.
Well, I've got a new friend all right.
But Charlotte is brutal, scheming and bloodthirsty.
How can I learn to like her?
Even though she is pretty and very clever it seems.
The early summer days on a farm are the happiest and fairest of the year.
Lilacs and apple blossoms bloom.
The days grow warm and soft.
And now that school was over, Fern could visit the barn almost every day.
Hi, everybody.
Wilbur, here's a little piece of pineapple upside-down cake for you.
May I stay and visit for a little while?
Attention, everyone.
I have an announcement.
After four weeks of unremitting effort on the part of our friend the goose, the goslings have arrived.
Well done.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
I'm pleased as can be, be, be.
What a wonderful day.
Brand new goslings.
How many goslings are there?
Seven.
Seven is a lucky number.
Luck had nothing to do with this.
It was hard work and good management.
I thought there were eight eggs.
What happened to the other one?
It didn't hatch.
It was a dud, I guess.
Can I have it?
Certainly, certainly, certainly.
Here you are.
Roll it away.
Add it to your nasty collection.
Oh, lovely.
But I'll tell you one thing, Templeton.
If I catch you poking poking, poking your ugly nose around my goslings, I'll give you the worst pounding a rat ever took.
All right, all right.
A rat is a rat, but my friends, let's hope that egg never breaks.
A rotten egg is a regular stink bomb.
Don't worry, I won't break it.
I handle stuff like this all the time.
I'll put it right here, under the trough, with my other things.
Imagine wanting a junky old rotten egg.
By the way, Wilbur, I heard the Zuckermans talking about you.
They're very glad about the weight you're putting on.
Yes, I guess they are.
Sure they are.
At my age, it's a good idea to keep gaining.
You know why they're happy, don't you?
You asked me this once before, but you didn't tell me why.
Now, now, old sheep.
He has to know sometime.
Know what?
Wilbur.
I don't want to spread bad news, but they're fattening you up because they're going to kill you.
They're going to what?
Kill you.
Turn you into smoke, bacon and ham.
It'll happen when the weather turns cold.
It's a regular conspiracy.
I see the same thing year after year.
John Arable arrives with his gun, shoots the... No!
Stop!
I don't want to die!
Save me, somebody!
Save me!
Wilbur!
Wilbur!
Be quiet, Wilbur!
I can't be quiet.
Is it true what the old sheep says, Charlotte?
Is it true they're going to kill me when the cold weather comes?
The old sheep has been around this barn a long time.
If she says they plan to kill you, I'm sure it's true.
It's also the dirtiest trick I ever heard of.
I don't want to die.
I want to stay alive right here in my comfortable manure pile with all my friends.
I want to breathe the beautiful air and lie in the beautiful sun.
You're certainly making a beautiful noise.
But I don't want to die.
Wilbur, Wilbur, quieten down.
You shall not die.
What?
Who's going to save me?
I am.
How?
I'm afraid that remains to be seen.
But I am going to save you, and I want you to quiet him down immediately.
You're carrying on in a childish way.
Stop your crying.
I can't stand hysterics.
Fern!
In here, Avery.
Mother has sent me to get you.
You're going to miss supper.
I'm coming.
Bye, everybody.
And thank you, Charlotte, for whatever it is you're going to do to save Wilbur.
Who's Charlotte?
The spider over there.
It's tremendous.
Leave it alone.
That's a fine spider.
You stop it, Avery.
Get down.
Get down.
I want that spider.
Let go of my stick, Fern.
I won't.
Get down.
Watch out.
Help.
I warned you, Avery.
What's that smell?
I think we broke a rotten egg.
Good night.
What a stink.
Let's get out of here.
My beloved egg.
I'm so glad that's over with.
I hope that smell goes away soon.
Charlotte?
Yes?
Were you serious when you promised you'd keep them from killing me?
I've never been more serious in my life.
Well, how are you going to save me?
Well, I don't really know, but I'm working on a plan.
Well, how is the plan?
Is it coming along pretty well?
Have you got very far with it?
Oh, it's coming, all right.
The plan is still in its early stages and hasn't completely shaped up yet, but I'm working on it.
Now, I want you to get plenty of sleep and stop worrying, and I want you in bed without delay.
All right, Charlotte.
Thank you, Charlotte.
Good night, Charlotte.
Good night, Wilbur.
Charlotte?
Yes?
May I get a drink of milk?
No.
I want you to go to sleep.
No more talking.
Close your eyes and go to sleep.
Good night, Charlotte.
Good night, Wilbur.
Good night, Charlotte.
Good night Wilbur.
What to do?
What to do?
I promised to save his life and i am determined to keep that promise.
But how wait a minute?
How perfectly simple.
The way to save wilbur is to play a trick on zuckerman.
Oh, if I can fool a bug, I can surely fool a man.
People are not as smart as bugs.
Of course, that's it.
This will not be easy, but it must be done.
First, I tear a section out of the web.
Now, I shall weave some new threads to take their place.
I'll begin here.
Swing, spinnerets.
Let out the thread.
The longer it gets, the better it's read.
Attach.
Pay outline.
Descend.
Complete the curve.
Easy now, that's it.
And descend.
Now curve.
And tie it off.
Add a curve.
Now, follow.
And line.
And descend.
And tie it off.
The message is spun.
I've come to an end.
The job that I've done is all for my friend.
Some pig.
Not bad, old girl, for the first time around.
Oh, but it was quite exhausting.
I'd better catch a little nap before breakfast.
What a terrible dream!
What a terrible dream!
Here you go, pig.
Breakfast.
Leftover pancakes.
Half a doughnut.
Stale toast.
Absolutely.
What's that?
Some pig.
I'm seeing things.
Some pig.
Mr. Zuckerman.
Mr. Zuckerman!
That's it, Mr. Zuckerman.
Mr. Zuckerman, look.
That's what I wanted to show you.
The writing in the spider's web.
Some pig.
A miracle has happened on this farm.
A miracle.
I don't believe it.
Some pig.
A miracle has happened.
And a sign has occurred here on Earth.
Right on our farm.
And we have no ordinary pig.
It seems to me you're a little off.
It seems to me we have no ordinary spider.
Oh, no.
It's the pig that's unusual.
It says so right there in the middle of that web.
Edith, call the minister and tell him about the miracle.
Then call the Erebels.
Hurry!
We'll have lots of visitors when word of this leaks out.
Hurry up, Edith.
Go and call the minister.
I better call my hairdresser and my manicurist and my, You know, Lurvie.
I've thought all along that pig of ours was an extra good one.
You notice how solid he is around the shoulders?
Why, sure I do.
I've always noticed that pig.
He's quite a pig.
He's long and he's smooth.
That's right.
He's as smooth as they come.
He's some pig.
Well, let's hurry and get the chores done.
Then we better get ready for all those visitors we're going to get.
Sure thing, Mr. Zuckerman.
Some pig.
Well done, Charlotte.
Oh, Charlotte.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
So far, so good.
This is just the beginning.
In the days that followed, Mr Zuckerman was so busy entertaining visitors that he neglected his farm work.
Mrs. Zuckerman prepared special meals for Wilbur.
Lurvie shaved and got a haircut and his principal farm duty was to feed the pig while people looked on.
Mr. Zuckerman ordered Lurvie to increase Wilbur's feedings from three meals to four meals a day.
Order!
Order!
I shall begin by calling the roll.
Wilbur.
Here.
Goose.
Here, here, here.
Oh, you sound like three geese.
Why can't you just say here?
Why do you have to repeat everything?
It's my idio, idio, idiosyncrasy.
Old sheep.
Here, here, here.
Little lamb.
Here.
All of you must have noticed what's been going on around here the last few days.
We've had hundreds of visitors to see the web, but people are slowly losing interest.
In order to keep people interested and Zuckerman thinking that Wilbur is still a special little pig, I need new words for the web.
Any suggestions for a new slogan?
How about Pig Supreme?
No good.
It sounds like a rich dessert.
How about terrific, terrific, terrific?
Oh, cut that down to one terrific and it will do very nicely.
I think it might impress Zuckerman.
How do you spell terrific?
Miss Charlotte, I'm not terrific.
That doesn't make a particle of difference, not a particle.
People believe almost anything they see in print.
Does anybody here know how to spell terrific?
I think it's a T double E, double R double I, double F, double I, double C C C, C C.
What kind of acrobat do you think I am?
Sorry, sorry, sorry.
Oh, I'll spell the word the best way I can.
But if I am to save Wilbur's life, I will need more than one word.
Perhaps Templeton can help.
Where is he?
Templeton?
Oh, he helps himself.
What's up?
When you go to the dump, please bring back a clipping from a magazine.
Charlotte can copy the words.
It will help save Wilbur's life.
Let him die.
Why should I worry?
You'll worry next winter when Wilbur is dead and nobody comes down here with a nice pail of slops.
I'll bring back a magazine clipping.
Thank you.
The meeting is adjourned.
Tonight I will tear my web apart and write terrific.
Now, Wilbur, go out into the yard and play.
Oh, thank you, Charlotte.
You're the best friend a pig ever had.
Oh, some pig.
Some pig.
Now.
Let's see.
The first letter is T. Swing, spinnerets, let out the thread.
The longer it gets, the better it's read.
Far into the night, while the other creatures slept, Charlotte worked on her web.
Descend across.
The message is spun.
I've come to the end.
The job that I've done is all for my friend.
Then she ate a small bug she had been saving and fell asleep.
Morning, pig.
Oh, my stars.
It can't happen again, but it did.
Terrific.
Another miracle.
Mr. Zuckerman.
Mr. Zuckerman, come to the pig pen.
It's another miracle.
Oh, Charlotte.
It's beautiful.
Good morning, Wilbur.
Terrific.
Hooray for Charlotte.
She did it again.
Oh, she's still sleeping.
It must have been a long night for her.
Edith, call the reporter on the Weekly Chronicle and tell him what happened.
He might want to bring a photographer.
There it is, Mr. Zuckerman.
Well, what do you know?
Terrific.
What do you think of that, Fern?
It's great.
Another miracle.
We're going to have visitors all over the place again.
I don't know where we'll put them.
Last time the driveway was practically full of cars and trucks.
We can park the vehicles in the open field.
I'll go make up a couple of parking signs.
Good idea, Lurvie.
Does this mean you're not going to kill Wilbur, Uncle Homer?
Well, who said anything about killing him?
But that's what happens to pigs in the cold weather.
You know...
The conspiracy the old sheep was saying?
I mean, I guess I picked it up somewhere.
Wilbur's safer now, Fern, as long as he's attracting all this attention.
Fern, honey, your mom and papa think you spend too much time with the animals.
Maybe you should play with children your own age, like Tommy Watson or Henry Fosse.
Tommy Watson?
Ugh.
Henry Fussy?
Oh!
Well, it was just an idea.
Let's go help your Aunt Edith.
She's going to be doing a lot of baking for the visitors today.
Okay, Uncle Homer.
Goodbye, Wilbur.
See you later.
Good morning, Wilbur.
Oh, Charlotte.
They're so excited about the new word.
And they're expecting more visitors today.
Oh, that's wonderful.
But we still have to worry about the future.
Your life is not secure yet.
I know.
But I can face anything with a friend like you.
Friendship is one of the most terrific things in the world.
You better believe it, Buster.
And you better not forget the friendship of old Templeton, who just happened to be at the dump all night looking for words to help save your life.
Morning, morning, morning.
Terrific.
My word.
I do believe that was my word.
Sorry, pig.
Murphy got so excited he forgot to give you your breakfast this morning.
Mrs. Zuckerman threw in a whole piece of apple strudel.
She's begging for the visitors.
That's what you get for being a terrific pig.
And I'll let you into a little secret.
If all this excitement continues, I might even think about taking you to the county fair.
Who knows?
You may even win that blue ribbon.
Did you hear that, everybody?
The county fair!
The county fair!
Sheep, what's a county fair?
It happens in a month or so.
People show their animals for prizes.
County Fair.
That means I'd get to live for at least another month.
And maybe, maybe, maybe longer if you win that blue, blue, blue ribbon.
Charlotte, will you go to the fair with me?
I don't know.
The fair comes at a bad time for me.
Nobody's going to the fair yet.
Zuckerman said he was just thinking about taking you.
If the excitement continues... Well, that means new words.
Templeton...
What did you bring?
Well, how's this?
It says crunchy.
Crunchy would be a good word to write into your web.
It's absolutely awful.
It couldn't be worse.
We must advertise Wilbur's noble qualities, not his tastiness.
Did you bring another word?
How's this?
It's the label of an old shirt.
I'm sorry, Templeton, but I'm afraid pre-shrunk is out of the question.
Have you got another one?
Oh, you think I am a messenger boy?
There.
It's from an empty packet of washing powder and I'm not going back for any more.
With new radiant action.
Oh.
Wilbur, run around.
I want to see you in action to see if you're radiant.
Jump in the air.
Now do a roll.
What was that?
That was a roll.
Yeah, a bacon roll.
Yes.
Do a backflip with a half twist in it.
Well, it may not be radiant, but it's interesting.
Actually, I feel radiant.
I really do.
Then radiant you shall be.
I'd better start writing at once.
Oh, poor Charlotte.
This is so much work for you.
I don't mind.
You're a good little pig, Wilbur, and you deserve to live.
Now everybody stand in front of me, so Zuckerman won't notice that I'm writing if he comes back before I finish.
Lamb, will you go and keep lookout?
Swing, spinnerets, let out the thread.
The longer it gets, the better it's read.
Templeton would need to go to the fair too.
Somebody, somebody, somebody has to run errands and do general work.
I'm staying right here.
I'm the slightest interest in fairs.
That's because you've never been to one.
A fair is a rat's paradise.
Everybody.
Everybody spills food at a fair ice cream, candy floss toffee apples, hard-boiled eggs, particles of cheese, cracker crumbs Stop.
That's enough!
You've twisted my whiskers.
I shall go.
Attach!
Ascend!
Repeat.
Charlotte's working fast, fast, fast.
I've pretty well got the hang of it now.
Look out.
Here come some visitors.
Looks like the Zuckermans and the Annables.
And a reporter.
He's got a camera.
Hurry, hurry, hurry, Charlotte.
I'm almost finished.
Just have to cross the final T. Over to the right.
Outline.
Attach.
They're almost here.
Repeat.
Attach.
And finished.
Right this way, everybody.
Here we are.
Make room for the photographer from the Weekly Chronicle.
May I have my picture taken with Wilbur?
Sure, young lady.
Now, Mr. Zuckerman, you and the young lady stand in front of the web and look at me.
Let me get my wife and my hired hand in here, too.
Come on, Edith.
Thank you, Mr. Zuckerman.
Can I be in the picture, too, please, Pop?
Well, of course you can, Avery.
Yeah!
And Martha and John, come on, everybody.
Come on.
Cheese?
Look how big Wilbur's gotten.
You'll get some extra good ham and bacon, Homer, when it comes time to kill that pig.
Wilbur's fainted.
Oh, wake up, Wilbur, wake up.
Oh, he's fine.
Well, that pig is terrific.
Just like it says in the web.
But Mr. Zuckerman, that's not what it says in the web.
Radiant.
Well, glory be.
Radiant.
Radiant.
Radiant.
Well, sir, that does it.
I have an announcement you can print in the newspaper.
I'm going to enter this pig in the county fair.
And if he can win a blue ribbon, I guarantee we'll never make bacon and ham out of him.
Oh, thank you, Uncle Homer.
Come on, everybody.
Let's go to the kitchen and celebrate with some fresh apple strudel and iced tea.
Sounds good, Edith.
Come on.
Yep, you two come on.
Charlotte, you did it.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Well, we got you to the fair, but that's only half the battle.
Will you come with me, Charlotte?
Please?
I'm not sure.
I'm just not sure.
Now, may I ask everybody kindly to leave?
This day has been particularly exhausting, and I must have some rest.
Of course, Charlotte.
Come on, then.
I'll admit, she's earned a little peace and quiet.
Me, me too.
I'll be out in the sun taking a nap, Charlotte.
I'm suddenly very tired.
I know I won't be able to help Wilbur much longer.
I'll have to lay my eggs soon, and I do want them to hatch here in the barn while it's warm and safe.
How can I go to the fair?
But I gave him my word, and how can he win without me?
In Charlotte's Web by E.B.
White, adapted for radio by Chris Wallace from the play by Joseph Robinette.
Wilbur was played by Dominic Cooper.
Charlotte by Sophie Thompson.
Templeton, Ken Campbell.
Old Sheep, Angela Curran.
Goose, Colleen Prendergast.
Little Lamb, Dominic Curran.
Lurvie, Kerry Shale.
Homer Zuckerman, John Chancer.
Edith, Laurence Bouvard.
Martha Arable, Laurel Lefkoe Fern, Georgina Hagen, Avery Corbyn Thomas-Smith and the narrator, and John Arable, Peter Marinka.
The music was by Rick Jukes.
It was directed by Chris Wallace and is a Watershed Partnership production for BBC Radio 4.
MUSIC
Find out if Charlotte decides to go to the fair tomorrow afternoon at a quarter past two.
And there are more stories for children on the digital station BBC7.
Doctors at Ipswich Hospital say they found no trace of the MRSA infection which killed a newborn baby last month.
Luke Day was only 36 hours old when he died.
The head of midwifery at the hospital has stressed that the maternity unit is still a safe place for mothers to give birth.
Here's Stephen Chittenden.
Luke Day was born on 2 February in Ipswich Hospital's maternity unit but died a day later.
A post-mortem revealed the presence of MRSA, the bug that claims hundreds of lives in British hospitals every year.
Since his death, tests of the maternity facilities staff and Luke's family members for MRSA all proved negative.
The baby's family say they want to know how MRSA killed him.
A hospital spokesperson described his death as a tragedy and said they're committing to finding out why Luke died.
An investigation is taking place into the shooting of an apparently armed man by police near Hull.
Armed officers were sent to the A63 because people reported seeing a man carrying a weapon driving on the wrong side of the road.
A federal judge in Florida has refused to intervene in the case of a severely brain-damaged woman whose feeding tubes were removed last week at the request of her husband.
Terry Schiavo's parents had wanted her feeding to be resumed, and President Bush ended his holiday early to sign legislation allowing the judge to reconsider the case.
Tony Blair has said religion should play a greater role in national life.
Speaking to an interdenominational Christian group called the FaithWorks Movement, the Prime Minister said the government could no longer deliver for individuals on its own and he said that faith groups could help people before wider problems develop.
Palace officials in the Principality of Monaco say Prince Rainier has been transferred to an intensive care unit.
The 81-year-old, who has been in power since 1949, was taken to hospital two weeks ago with a bronchial infection.
BBC Radio 4 News.
In half an hour, we'll have the second from our collection of spring stories.
This afternoon, three women hope to discover what really happened when their friend Jack's car mysteriously plummeted off a cliff in Italy.
Perhaps his wife can enlighten them.
That's after Home Planet with Richard Daniel.
