Original subtitles

The County Fair comes only once a year

and with it, the end of summer.

For children, it's a final glimpse of wonder

before the dry business of schoolwork returns.

For farmers, a culmination of the passing season's toil

and a hope that all the hard work will be rewarded.

The anticipation is like that before Christmas.

Now, the way they score the wool is...

Four points for fineness,

two for length, and four for yield.

Guess how many points I racked up

to win my first blue ribbon?

Two-hundred and twenty-two-two-two!

Nine. Ten is the highest possible score.

So you don't have to be perfect to win?

Nine is very rare. And nobody is perfect.

That will be quite enough.

Wilbur needs his rest. He's got a big day ahead of him.

So do you!

You've never been to a County Fair either!

Wilbur, listen...

I won't be able to come to the fair with you.

What? Why not?

Because I have to stay home and get some work done.

I must lay my eggs.

You can lay eggs?

Of course. I'm versatile.

I can turn with ease from one thing to another.

Charlotte, I need you there.

How will I win without one of your webs?

Why, with any number of your many fine qualities.

Mr. Zuckerman! Boss!

They said the pig was what?

A "behemoth."

A pig so large, it's practically guaranteed

to win the blue ribbon.

There goes our shot at the prize money.

You can't trust everything you hear at the General Store.

-Could just be a rumor. -And if it's not?

Does that quilt have a chance of winning?

I don't think it matters.

First prize is a blue ribbon and a brass thimble.

Oh, Edith, I'm a fool.

How did I ever think tiny Wilbur could beat out the big shots?

Lurvy. Do me a favor

and fetch me a pail of buttermilk.

Ooh, it's really cold.

Eh. It's cold. It's cold. It-It...

Oh, it tastes pretty good!

My grandmother used to bathe her pigs with buttermilk

when they got dirty.

We want butter-butter

buttermilk too!

Shoo, shoo, fuera, fuera!

Ah... Cow, you put out a good product.

Hold still, Wilbur.

Hold still.

There.

Well, he's clean, anyway.

Outstanding, Edith!

That behemoth pig is no match for our Wilbur now!

Did he say behemoth pig?

Ufh, that's a problem if ever I saw one.

-Why? -This is unfortunate.

We didn't account for such stiff competition.

I did, but nobody listens to me.

In all my years' experience, no pig ever won for being shiny.

I shall go to the fair.

-You're coming with me? -Yes.

And Templeton, you had better come too.

What? Huh, no.

I'll need you to bring me inspiration.

I must spin a word better than any I've spun before.

Oh, you always say that. I am staying right here.

I haven't the slightest interest in fairs.

That's because you've never been to one.

A fair is a rat's paradise.

Everybody spills and drops their food.

After dark, you'll find sticky pie pans,

frozen custard dribblings,

abandoned candied apples, fragments of fried dough...

That's enough.

Don't tell me anymore. I'm going.

Good

One, two, three!

Using all their strength,

the men picked up the crate

and heaved it aboard the truck.

They didn't know that under the straw was a rat

and inside a knothole was a grey spider.

They saw only a pig.

Everybody in!

The trucks began to move ahead.

The animals cheered.

The children waved,

and away they went to the Fair.

Wow.

Templeton, come take a look. It's wonderful!

I'm not going anywhere 'til it's dark out.

My nose can tell me all I need to know for now.

-Fern, c'mon! -Just a minute.

Wilbur, I need to go.

Henry and I are trying to see a comet tonight,

and, well, we've gotta get to the Ferris wheel.

You're not staying with me?

No, but Charlotte's here.

Indeed I am.

Have a wonderful time, dear.

Bye!

Why is Fern spending time with him

when she should be spending time with me?

Fern is growing up and getting other interests.

She wants to see a comet. It's normal.

She won't spend the rest of her life talking to animals.

That can't be true.

Have you ever met an adult

who talks to animals like Fern does?

-No. -Then you should feel

very happy to have so many animal friends

to talk to back in the barn.

I guess.

Excellent. Only eight more revolutions to go.

-What?! -We need to find the average.

The comet will only be visible for a few minutes tonight.

We gotta time it so we'll be at the top

at exactly the right moment.

Leave it to you two to make a County Fair boring.

Just hurry up, alright?

I want to ride the swings and do the ring toss

and eat cheeseburgers!

What do you think?

Ha! Is that the Golden Goat of San Juan?

It is a work of art.

Where did you get those colors?!

-Oh, uh... -She dyes the thread herself.

She learned from our family back in Puerto Rico.

Oh! Here they come.

They've never seen a quilt like yours, Edith. Nobody has!

Charlotte, are you hearing this?

Charlotte?

There's a pig a few pens over

and he's as enormous as they say.

Much bigger than you.

Well, maybe he's older than I am?

He's had more time to grow?

I'd better take a closer look.

So, this...

This here's the surly hog you told me about, huh?

The one you named after your uncle?

In the flesh.

Homer, your encouraging words

were just what I needed.

Salutations!

Salutations.

Huh?

Lovely to meet you, too.

I'm Charlotte. I understand your name is Uncle?

-Yup. -I see.

May I ask your age? Are you a spring pig?

Sure, I'm a spring pig.

What did you think I was, a spring chicken?

That's a good one, eh, bugsy?

I've heard funnier.

And I'm not a bug, I'm an arachnid.

He claims he's a spring pig.

But he's twice as big as me?

At least.

Why did we even come here?

I don't stand a chance.

Nonsense. That other pig has a most unattractive personality

and he cracks weak jokes.

He's not anywhere near as clean as you are, nor as pleasant.

And certainly not as extraordinary

Still, he'll be hard to beat.

If we want to make everyone see

what's as clear as day to me,

we'll need the perfect word.

Ahem...

Ever occur to anyone that I got other things to do

besides fetch words for a spider and a pig?

I'm a ravenous rat.

I came here to eat, not deliver the mail!

Attention, attention everyone!

We have chosen our winners.

The Second Place prize goes to Mrs. Bertha Snide's

Eight-Pointed Starflower Quilt

entitled, "Eight-Pointed Starflower."

And our first place blue ribbon

and honorary brass thimble

goes to...

A daring new interpretation

of the hand-quilting tradition,

Mrs. Edith Zuckerman's Decorative Quilt

entitled, "Sunlight."

Why should she win for that circus tent?

Mrs. Snide, please.

Oh, come on, Phyllis. Look at it!

Runs completely contrary

to the traditions of this competition.

Oh, I don't know what you mean.

Now, please refrain from...

Are you gonna make me say it out loud? It's a county fair!

She's not even from this country.

My sister and I were born

and raised here in New England, ma'am.

Our parents came here from Puerto Rico,

and as such, we are all citizens of the United States.

If she's so American,

then why can't she make a traditional quilt

like everyone else?

It is her tradition. Our tradition.

We learned to stitch from our mother, like I assume

you learned from yours.

And just like our mother,

Edith creates her own patterns

instead of copying them out of a Sears

and Roebuck catalogue.

That's why you've never seen a quilt like this

and that's why she won.

If this is a problem for you, I suggest a solution:

make a better quilt next year.

Gracias, man it a.

Ah... My shining hour, at last.

Wish me luck, folks.

Good luck, Templeton.

I realize there are many tempting distractions

for you here, but don't lose sight of your mission:

you must find the perfect...

The perfect word. I know, I know.

I heard you the first 500 times. It'll be easy as pie!

Will he take long?

I don't know, Wilbur. Maybe.

I need to rest.

Are you feeling okay?

Of course.

It's just...

The smallest things seem to tire me these days.

-You look different. -My age, I guess.

Well, I'm awfully sorry you're feeling poorly.

Perhaps if you spin a web and catch a couple flies?

Perhaps.

But I feel like...

The end of a long day.

Alright, belly.

You gotta hang on a little longer, okay?

Ha!

Words, words, more words.

Perfect!

We did it, belly!

I just gotta run this back to Charlotte,

then the rest of the night belongs to you.

Like I said, it'll be easy as...

Please, Daddy, please!

...Cotton candy.

Um, Right. Easy as...

Corndogs.

Easy as popcorn.

Easy as fried dough.

Easy as custard.

Easy as a candy apple.

Actually...

This isn't very easy after all.

Hello?

Ah!

Alright, belly.

You gotta hang on just a little longer, okay?

I just gotta run this newspaper over to Charlotte

and then the rest of the night belongs to you!

Wow.

It's growling like a tiger.

Oh, maybe I should get something to eat?

No, no. It'll have to wait.

Why wait, Templeton?

What?

There's no time like the present.

Who said that?

-Just me. -And me.

-And me. -And me.

And me.

Uh, listen, fellas.

I'm a little busy here. Uh, whaddya want?

It's not what we want. It's what you want.

Uh, what do I want?

All this...

...could be yours!

Wait. What about Charlotte?

And Wilbur? They need a word!

Yeah, yeah. Right, right.

What about you?

This is a once-in-a-lifetime feast.

You may never taste such high-living again.

But Wilbur's life is at stake.

You may not like it, but you gotta

hold up your end of the bargain.

Remember, that pig tried to steal a whole plum pie

for ya, just 'cause you asked him.

That's gotta count for something, doesn't it?

C'mon, pal.

Atta boy.

Okay, it's time.

We need to be on the next ride.

Templeton?

Templeton!

I believe we're on our own tonight.

-So what do I do? -Think hard.

What's the exact word that explains

why you're so special?

I'm not special.

I'm just a runty pig.

I don't even know why you helped me in the first place.

All I ever did was be your friend.

Well, that in itself is a tremendous thing.

Wilbur, I weave my webs for you because I like you.

Because we're friends.

After all, what's a life, anyway?

We're born, we live a little, we die.

A spider's life can't help being

something of a mess with all the trapping and eating flies.

By helping you,

perhaps I was trying to lift my own life up a trifle.

Heaven knows that anyone's life can stand a little of that.

I... I'm no good at making speeches.

I haven't your gift for words.

But well...

You're a true friend, Charlotte,

and I would give my life for you.

I really would.

I know what to write.

-What is it? -Don't you worry.

Just go to sleep. You'll see it in the morning.

When the first light comes into the sky,

you look up here, and I'll show you not just a word.

I will show you my masterpiece.

Right on time.

I hope.

I don't see anything.

We must not be high enough yet.

C'mon, c'mon...

-I think I see it! -Where?!

There! That little blue light!

Did you see it? It's really small.

Ah! I think you're right! Okay...

I can't find it.

Let me look!

Ugh, Where is it? Where is it?

I think we might have to wait

until the Ferris Wheel stops moving.

Then we can get a good look.

But it's not stopping. Why isn't it stopping?

Maybe there were no more riders?

Oh, it's gonna disappear soon!

We're going to miss it.

What's happening?

Hold it there for awhile?

Thanks.

-Can you see it? -Not yet.

Not...

Wow

Every once in a while,

a moment comes along

that has the power to change us.

A moment that,

until now, we have only guessed at.

It makes us feel that, on this day,

in this place,

we are a part of something special.

It makes us feel as if we are woven somehow

into the vast web of the universe.

The moment passes, of course.

And in time, will diminish.

But all those who bear witness,

they remain in some small way.

Humble?

It has two meanings.

"Not proud" and, "Near the ground."

That's you all over.

It doesn't sound very special.

Oh, but it is.

It's why I loved you, and why everyone else should too.

-Where are you? -I'm back here.

Up in this back corner.

Why aren't you on your web?

I left it last night.

To make something.

Something for me, for a change.

What is that?

This, Wilbur, is my egg sac,

my magnum opus.

It's Latin. It means "great work."

Inside, there are 514 eggs.

It's a very beautiful egg sac.

Thank you. It's strong, too.

I made it out of the toughest material I have.

And waterproof. So the eggs will stay warm and dry.

Are you really going to have

514 babies?

If nothing happens, yes.

Of course, they won't show up 'til next spring.

Why are you sad?

I should think you'd be terribly happy.

Oh, don't pay any attention to me.

I'm not young anymore, Wilbur.

I'm slowing up, feeling my age.

Well, would you look at that, hmm!

You didn't need my help after all.

You ought to be ashamed of yourself.

It would serve you right if you had an acute

attack of indigestion.

Don't worry about my stomach. I can handle anything.

Ugh, stop it.

Stop with those eyes!

You can't lure me here with tales of the feast

and expect me not to gorge. I'm a rat!

Never in my life have I seen such leavings of food

and drink, everything well-ripened,

seasoned with the passage of time

and heat of the day.

I was helpless.

Templeton, hush. In case you didn't notice,

Charlotte has made an egg sac.

She is going to become a mother.

To 514 babies.

-Is that true? -Yes. It's true.

Well, this really has been a night.

Never mind him, Wilbur.

Today is your big day.

I want you to look your best.

Look! Look at the web!

Humble?

Now isn't that just the word for Wilbur?

Wilbur, you look perfect this morning!

What?

I said, I feel perfect, Fern.

I'm so happy to see you!

I think everything will be o...

I... I can't understand you.

Charlotte was right.

You won't talk to animals forever.

You're growing up.

Lookie here, folks! Come one, come all.

-Gather round, be witness... -You okay, Fern?

-...To a great miracle! -Mm-hmm.

This is no ordinary pig.

He is some, terrific,

-radiant, other wordly... -Uncle Homer, look over there.

The... The blue ribbon.

What? What is it?

Attention, please!

Will Mr. Homer Zuckerman bring his famous pig

to the judges' booth in front of the grandstand.

A special announcement will be made there

in 20 minutes!

C'mon, what are we waiting for?!

Ladies and gentlemen, I now present...

Mr. Homer L. Zuckerman's distinguished pig!

It's okay, Wilbur. It's okay.

The fame of this unique animal

has spread to the far corners of the Earth.

Many of you will recall

that never-to-be-forgotten day this summer

when the words "some pig" appeared mysteriously

on a spider's web in Mr. Zuckerman's barn.

Where did this writing come from?

Not from the spider, we can rest assured of that.

Spiders are very clever at weaving their webs.

But needless to say, spiders cannot write.

Oh, they can't, can't they?

And yet, is this not some pig?!

We should all feel... proud

and grateful to have witnessed this miracle.

And so, on behalf of the governors of the fair,

I have the honor of awarding a special prize

of 25 dollars

to Mr. Zuckerman.

And a handsome medal to his radiant,

terrific, humble pig,

for attracting so many visitors to our great county fair!

Yeah, Wilbur!

Wilbur!

What's wrong with him? Is he dead?

We can't give a prize to a dead pig.

-It's never been done! -Oh, he isn't dead,

he's fainted.

He, uh, well, he gets embarrassed easily.

It's alright, it's alright, he's-he's fine.

He's just, well, he's humble.

Aw...

- Wilbur, wake up - Okay, come on, buddy.

Come on.

It's as shiny and bright as you are, Wilbur.

You deserve it.

Are you alright, Charlotte? You sound tired.

I am. But I feel... peaceful.

Your success today was, to a small degree,

my success too.

You will live out your life at Zuckerman's farm.

You'll see the snows of winter

and enjoy the beauty of the frozen world,

all the sights and sounds and smells,

all the precious days.

Oh, Charlotte,

to think that when I first met you,

I thought you were cruel and bloodthirsty.

Won't it be wonderful to be back home in the barn cellar again

with the sheep and the geese?

And in the spring, there will be 514 baby spiders

crawling all around, and Junior...

Wilbur.

I'm not going back to the barn.

Not going back? What are you talking about?

I haven't even strength enough to climb back down to the crate.

In a day or two, I'll be dead.

It's the natural order of things.

No, Charlotte, no!

This can't be! It isn't right! It isn't fair!

Come now,

let's not make a scene.

But I can't stand it.

I-I won't leave you here to die alone.

I'll stay too.

Don't be ridiculous.

They'll put you in a crate any minute.

And, besides, it wouldn't make sense.

There'd be no one here to feed you.

Where's Templeton?

-Templeton! -Huh, huh?

Can't a rat get a wink of sleep?

Listen to me! Charlotte is very ill.

She has only a short time to live

and can't go home with us. It's absolutely necessary

that I take her egg sac with me.

I can't reach it, and I can't climb.

You're the only one who can get it.

Do this. Do that.

Never a compliment for the rat, only abuse.

You didn't even help us find a word.

At the very least, do this.

Look at her.

Uh... what's in it for me?

If you get me Charlotte's egg sac,

from now on, whenever they bring me slop,

I will let you eat first.

You mean that?

Alright, it's a deal.

Use extreme care!

I don't want a single one of those eggs harmed.

Ugh. This stuff sticks to my mouth.

It's worse than caramel candy.

Thank you, Templeton.

Thank you. I will never forget this as long as I live.

Hmm, neither will I.

C'mon now, Wilbur.

We're going home.

The egg sac felt strange on Wilbur's tongue.

And, of course, he couldn't say anything.

Charlotte knew he was saying good-bye

in the only way he could.

And she knew her children were safe.

Good-bye.

She summoned all her strength to wave a leg at him.

The fairgrounds were soon deserted.

The sheds and buildings emptied.

The pathways littered and forlorn.

Nobody, of the hundreds of people

that had visited the fair,

knew that a grey spider

had played the most important part of all.

No one was with her when she died.

Wilbur's was a strange homecoming.

Around his neck, he wore a medal of honor.

In his mouth, he held a sac of spider's eggs.

In his heart, he felt a gaping hole.

Oh... Wilbur,

you're family now,

and I promise I'm going to take care of you

the rest of your days.

Congratu-atu-atulations, Wilbur!

You wear that medal as well as I wore mine.

Wilbur, where is Charlotte?

Is Wilbur okay?

Titi Edith said that you really gave it to some lady

at the quilting expo.

She deserved it.

And Edith deserved the blue ribbon.

-What's wrong? -I...

I never appreciated my sister's gifts.

I just complained about the ways she wasn't like me.

I even worried she was rubbing off on you,

and that doesn't make a lick of sense, because well,

because she's wonderful.

And so are you.

Who am I to complain?

I suppose I was blinded by pride.

Guess I should've been humble like Wilbur.

Soon the autumn days grew shorter.

The leaves shook loose from the trees.

Christmas came, and the snows of winter.

And, just as Charlotte promised,

Wilbur lived to enjoy the beauty of the frozen world.

Here, Wilbur! Slop's up!

You know, you would live longer if you ate less.

Hmph! Who wants to live forever?

I get untold pleasures from the feast.

All winter long, Wilbur watched over

Charlotte's egg sac as though he were guarding

his own children.

On the coldest days,

he lay so that his breath would warm it.

Stay warm, children.

In time, the snows melted and ran away.

The mornings came sooner.

The swallows returned from holidays south.

And a warm wind blew again.

Get some fresh air, Wilbur.

You're liable to go blind

just staring at that sac all day.

Follow-follow-follow me, children.

Pick up your feet-feet-feet

and straighten your neck-neck-necks.

Yes-yes-yes, grandma!

Hi, Junior. Hi, Junior's goslings.

Everyone! They're here at last!

Hello, I'm Wilbur.

I'm an old friend of your mother's.

Are you alright? Is everything okay?

They don't understand me.

They're not talking. What do I do?

Whaddya think? You have to teach them.

Of course. Of course.

Children, it is time for you to learn more about the world,

so you may have a wonderful and satisfying life.

The first lesson is "Talking."

Let's start with "hello,"

which is what you say when you meet someone. "Hello."

Hello...

Or a fancy way to say hello is "salutations."

That's what your mother first said to me.

Try it. "Salutations."

Just give-it, give-it, give-it time.

For several days and several nights,

the baby spiders crawled here and there.

Up and down, around and about.

Hey, that tickles.

Waving at Wilbur and saying nothing.

Let's try it again.

"Hello."

"Hello."

And when you part with someone,

you say "Good-bye."

"Good-bye."

Then came a quiet morning

when Mr. Zuckerman opened a door on the side of the barn

and a warm draft of rising air

blew softly through the cellar.

"Hello."

"Hello."

"Hello."

Good-bye!

You can talk? You can talk!

Wait a minute!

Where are you going?

No. Stop! What are you doing?

-Bye! -Bye-Bye!

-Good-bye! -Good-bye!

Wait! Children, wait! Come back!

-Bye! -Good-bye!

-Bye! -Bye-Bye!

Please, stop!

At least someone tell me what's going on! Please!

We're leaving on the warm updraft.

This is our moment for setting forth.

We are aeronauts and we are going out into the world

to make webs for ourselves.

-But-but where? -Wherever the wind takes us.

We take to the breeze, we go as we please.

Are all of you going?

-You can't all go. -Good-bye!

Your mother wanted me to care for you!

She wouldn't like this!

-I'm sure of it! -Good-bye!

-Good-bye! -Good-bye!

-Good-bye! -Ugh...

Why did I ever teach them that cursed word?

-Bye! -Bye-bye!

Bye-bye!

This seemed like the end of the world to Wilbur.

To be deserted by Charlotte's children.

Salutations! I'm over here.

-Huh? -So am I.

So am I.

Uh, Wha-what? W-What are your names?

I'll tell you my name

if you tell me why you're trembling.

I'm trembling with joy.

Then my name is Joy.

What was my mother's middle initial?

-A. -Then my name is Aranea.

And how about you?

Will you just pick a name for me?

Something nice.

Not too long, not too fancy,

and not too dumb.

Uh, Nellie?

I like that very much. You may call me Nellie.

-Wilbur? -Yes?

-We're hungry. -Can you help us?

What do you mean?

Can't you just spin webs and catch bugs?

-Of course not. -We're too small

Our spinnerets aren't fully developed.

Oh...

You're runts, like I was.

Ah, what do I do?

I can't spin a web. They'll starve!

A father provides.

But I don't know how to catch a fly.

Fly?

Fishing.

They say you catch more flies with honey than vinegar.

It's not just an expression.

Met a bear once. Long before your time,

you wouldn't know him. Now I don't know

his connection to vinegar exactly, but...

-So I just need honey? -I know where you can get it.

But even I'm not so cruel as to suggest you try.

Just tell me.

A father provides.

Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!

-Wilbur! -What happened?

Are you okay?

Children, listen quickly.

This honey is sticky like a web and will attract flies.

So dive at him,

knock him out, and suck his blood.

Good luck.

Over the next few days,

Charlotte's children survived on the bugs

caught with Wilbur's honey.

They were nourished, and grew larger,

and spun webs of their own.

I got one!

So did I!

Me too!

-Wilbur? -What's the matter?

Aren't you happy for us?

Yes, of course. It's just, well...

Now that you can go fend for yourselves,

I suppose you'll be setting off on the next warm wind.

Oh, there it is now.

Go on.

Set forth. Begin your lives.

W-Why aren't you leaving?

We want to stay.

-We like it here. -And we like you!

Like Fern and Charlotte were to him...

Higher, higher!

...Wilbur was a friend and teacher

for Charlotte's daughters.

Wilbur! Wilbur, look!

What did you... You know what? Don't tell me.

He tended to their every need.

And when the gosling returned home that night,

his mother had made the biggest and most beautiful nest.

It took the goose two days to make it.

It was...

-Her magnum opus. -What's that?

Well, it's Latin.

...And he passed on all of Charlotte's wisdom.

At night, Wilbur would gaze at the stars.

Fern had taught him about constellations,

and he even found one of his own.

Now, he could always speak to Charlotte.

And then Templeton got caught in the web.

He didn't like that at all.

Same old Templeton.

Wilbur didn't see Fern as often as he used to.

But all the same,

he treasured any moments he got to share with her.

Soon a full year had passed

since Wilbur had been born a runt in the Arable barn.

He was now a beloved guardian to three young spiders

and a respected member of the barn family.

Whoa!

Now you hang on tight, okay? But have fun.

I'll keep a good-good-good eye on them.

Goodnight, Joy. Goodnight, Aranea.

-Goodnight, Nellie. -Goodnight!

What is it? I can't see you.

It's nothing.

Salutations, Charlotte.

Another fine day down here.

The girls are all doing wonderfully.

And they're making fast friends with Junior's goslings.

Let's see, what else...

Oh, it's my birthday today.

My first one.

It's kind of a funny feeling.

You know...

I never would have had a birthday

if it weren't for you.

You didn't just save my life,

you taught me how precious life is.

How to cherish all of it.

Night and day,

summer and winter.

To cherish spiders,

and cows,

and sheep,

and geese,

and even sneaky rats.

I owe everything to you.

Wilbur never forgot Charlotte.

Over the years, he loved her children

and grandchildren dearly,

but none ever quite took her place in his heart.

She was in a class by herself.

It is not often that someone comes along

who is a true friend and a good writer.

Charlotte was both.

Surprise!

Thank you.

Happy birthday!

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