The text below is from the [ original novel ].
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Chapter 6 - Summer Days
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.
...
It was on a day in early summer that the goose eggs hatched.
This was an important event in the barn cellar. Fern was there, sitting on her stool, when it happened.
Except for the goose herself, Charlotte was the first to know that the goslings had at last arrived. The goose knew a day in advance that they were coming - she could hear their weak voices calling from inside the egg. She knew that they were in a desperately cramped position inside the shell and were most anxious to break through and get out. So she sat quite still, and talked less than usual.
When the first gosling poked its grey-green head through the goose's feathers and looked around, Charlotte spied it and made the announcement.
"I am sure," she said, that every one of us here will be gratified to learn that after four weeks of unremitting effort and patience on the part of our friend the goose, she now has something to show for it. The goslings have arrived. May I offer my sincere congratulations!"
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" said the goose, nodding and bowing shamelessly.
"Thank you," said the gander.
"Congratulations! " shouted Wilbur. "How many goslings are there? I can only see one."
"There are seven," said the goose.
"Fine!" said Charlotte. "Seven is a lucky number."
"Luck had nothing to do with this," said the goose. "It was good management and hard work."
At this point, Templeton showed his nose from his hiding place under Wilbur's trough. He glanced at Fern, then crept cautiously toward the goose, keeping close to the wall. Everyone watched him, for he was not "Look," he began in his sharp voice, "you say you have seven goslings. There were eight eggs. What happened to the other egg? Why didn't it hatch?"
"It's a dud, I guess," said the goose.
"What are you going to do with it?" continued Templeton, his little round beady eyes fixed on the goose.
"You can have it," replied the goose. "Roll it away and add it to that nasty collection of yours." (Templeton had a habit of picking up unusual objects around the farm and storing them in his home. He saved everything.)
"Certainly-ertainly-ertainly," said the gander. "You may have the egg. But I'll tell you one thing, Templeton, if I ever catch you poking-oking-oking your ugly nose around our goslings, I'll give you the worst pounding a rat ever took." And the gander opened his strong wings and beat the air with them to show his power. He was strong and brave, but the truth is, both the goose and the gander were worried about Templeton. And with good reason. The rat had no morals, no conscience, no scruples, no consideration, no decency, no milk of rodent kindness, no compunctions, no higher feeling, no friendliness, no anything. He would kill a gosling if he could get away with it - the goose knew that. Everybody knew it. With her broad bill the goose pushed the unhatched egg out of the nest, and the entire company watched in disgust while the rat rolled it away. Even Wilbur, who could eat almost anything, was appalled. "Imagine wanting a junky old rotten egg!" he muttered.
"A rat is a rat," said Charlotte. She laughed a tinkling little laugh. "But, my friends, if that ancient egg ever breaks, this barn will be untenable."
"What's that mean?" asked Wilbur.
"It means nobody will be able to live here on account of the smell. A rotten egg is a regular stink bomb."
"I won't break it," snarled Templeton. "I know what I'm doing. I handle stuff like this all the time."
He disappeared into his tunnel, pushing the goose egg in front of him. He pushed and nudged till he succeeded in rolling it to his lair under the trough.
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