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Tired from his romp, Wilbur lay down in the clean straw.
威尔伯又跑又跳，忙了一通，累了，在干净的麦草上躺下来。
He closed his eyes.
它闭上眼睛。
The straw seemed scratchy
麦草像是有点扎肉
- not as comfortable as the cow manure,
——没有牛粪舒服。
which was always delightfully soft to lie in.
躺在牛粪上面总是觉得松软可爱。
So he pushed the straw to one side and stretched out in the manure.
因此它推开麦草，在肥料上伸开手脚。
Wilbur sighed.
威尔伯叹了口气。
It had been a busy day - his first day of being terrific.
这一天——它变得了不起的第一天——够忙的。
Dozens of people had visited his yard during the afternoon,
这个下午几十人几十人地来参观它，
and he had had to stand and pose,
它只好站着摆姿势，
looking as terrific as he could.
尽可能让人看到它了不起。
Now he was tired.
这会儿它累了。
Fern had arrived and seated herself quietly on her stool in the corner.
弗恩来过，静静地坐在角落里她那张凳子上。
"Tell me a story, Charlotte!" said Wilbur, as he lay waiting for sleep to come.
“给我讲个故事吧，夏洛！”威尔伯躺在那里等睡着时说，
"Tell me a story!"
“给我讲个故事吧！”
