A fly that had been crawling along Wilbur's trough had flown up and blunderd into the lower part of the Charlotte's web and was tangled in the sticky threads.
The fly was beating its wings furiously trying to break loose and free itself.
"First,' said Charlotte, "I dive at him."
She plunged headfirst toward the fly.
As she dropped, a tiny silken thread unwound from her rear end.
"Next, I wrap him up." She grabbed the fly, threw a few jets of silk around it, and rolled it over and over, wrapping it so that it couldn't move.
Wilbur watched in horror. He could hardly believe waht he was seeing, and although he detested flies, he was sorry for this one.
"There!" said Charlotte.
"Now I knock him out, so he'll be more comfortable."
She bit the fly. "He can't feel a thing now," she remarked.
"He'll make a perfect breakfast for me."
"You mean you eat flies?" gasped Wilbur.
"Certainly. Files, bugs, grashopper, choice beetles, moths, butterfiles, tasty cockroaches, gnats, midges, daddy longlegs, centipedes, mosquitoes, crickets anything that is careless enough to get caught in my web. I have to live, don't I?"
"Why, yes, of course," said Wilbur.
"Do they taste good?"
"Delicious. Of course, I don't really eat them.
I drink them- drink their blood. I love blood," said Charlotte, and her pleasant, thin voice grew even thinner and more pleasant.
"Don't say that!" groaned Wilbur. "Please don't say things like that!"
31.夏洛的网-26
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