Chapter 1 Before Breakfast 早餐前

“Where’s Papa going with that ax?” said Fern to her mother as they were sitting the table for breakfast.

“爸爸拿着那把斧子是要去哪儿？”芬恩对母亲问道，这时候她们正在桌子旁张罗着准备吃早餐。

“Out to the hoghouse,” replied Mrs. Arable. “Some pigs were born last night.”

“爸爸是去猪圈了，”阿拉布尔太太回答说：“昨晚上啊，出生了一窝小猪仔哦。”

“I don’t see why he needs an ax,” continued Fern, who was only eight.

“我可不明白这跟斧子有什么关系？”芬恩感到很奇怪，她还只有八岁呢。

“Well,” said her mother, “one of the pigs is a runt. It’s very small and weak, and it will never amount to anything. So your father has decided to do away with it.”

“是这样的，宝贝。”母亲解释说：“其中有一只小猪啊，又小又虚弱，根本养不大的，所以爸爸是要去把它给处理掉。”

“Do away with it?” shrieked Fern. “You mean kill it? Just because it’s smaller than the others?”

“处理掉？”芬恩尖声叫道：“您是说要杀掉它吗？只是因为它比其它那些小猪要弱一些？”

Mrs. Arable put a pitcher on the table. “Don’t yell, Fern!” she said. “Your father is right. The pig would probably die anyway.”

阿拉布尔太太端来一罐奶油放在桌上。“别那么大声，芬恩！”她说：“爸爸这么做是对的，这样的小猪说不定什么时候就会死掉。”

Fern pushed a chair out of the way and ran outdoors. The grass was wet and the earth smelled of springtime. Fern’s sneakers were sopping by the time she caught up with her father.

芬恩一把推开椅子，飞快地跑了出去。清晨的草地湿漉漉的，松软的泥土中散发着春天的气息，芬恩追上父亲的时候，她的运动鞋已经湿透了。

“Please don’t kill it!” she sobbed. “It’s unfair.”

“别，别杀它！”她抽噎着说：“这不公平！”

Mr. Arable stopped walking.

阿拉布尔先生停住了脚步。

“Fern,” he said gently, “you will have to learn to control yourself.”

“芬恩，”他温和地说，“你得学会控制自己的情绪。”

“Control myself?” yelled Fern. “This is a matter of life and death, and you talk about controlling myself.” Tears ran down her cheeks and she took hold of the ax and tried to pull it out of her father’s hand.

“控制情绪？”芬恩大声嚷道：“这事儿关系到一条生命，而您却在说什么控制情绪。”她双手使劲拽住斧子，试图把它从爸爸的手中夺下来，委屈的泪水顺着脸颊不住地往下掉。

Chapter 1 Before Breakfast 早餐前

“Where’s Papa going with that ax?” said Fern to her mother as they were sitting the table for breakfast.

“爸爸拿着那把斧子是要去哪儿？”芬恩对母亲问道，这时候她们正在桌子旁张罗着准备吃早餐。

“Out to the hoghouse,” replied Mrs. Arable. “Some pigs were born last night.”

“爸爸是去猪圈了，”阿拉布尔太太回答说：“昨晚上啊，出生了一窝小猪仔哦。”

“I don’t see why he needs an ax,” continued Fern, who was only eight.

“我可不明白这跟斧子有什么关系？”芬恩感到很奇怪，她还只有八岁呢。

“Well,” said her mother, “one of the pigs is a runt. It’s very small and weak, and it will never amount to anything. So your father has decided to do away with it.”

“是这样的，宝贝。”母亲解释说：“其中有一只小猪啊，又小又虚弱，根本养不大的，所以爸爸是要去把它给处理掉。”

“Do away with it?” shrieked Fern. “You mean kill it? Just because it’s smaller than the others?”

“处理掉？”芬恩尖声叫道：“您是说要杀掉它吗？只是因为它比其它那些小猪要弱一些？”

Mrs. Arable put a pitcher on the table. “Don’t yell, Fern!” she said. “Your father is right. The pig would probably die anyway.”

阿拉布尔太太端来一罐奶油放在桌上。“别那么大声，芬恩！”她说：“爸爸这么做是对的，这样的小猪说不定什么时候就会死掉。”

Fern pushed a chair out of the way and ran outdoors. The grass was wet and the earth smelled of springtime. Fern’s sneakers were sopping by the time she caught up with her father.

芬恩一把推开椅子，飞快地跑了出去。清晨的草地湿漉漉的，松软的泥土中散发着春天的气息，芬恩追上父亲的时候，她的运动鞋已经湿透了。

“Please don’t kill it!” she sobbed. “It’s unfair.”

“别，别杀它！”她抽噎着说：“这不公平！”

Mr. Arable stopped walking.

阿拉布尔先生停住了脚步。

“Fern,” he said gently, “you will have to learn to control yourself.”

“芬恩，”他温和地说，“你得学会控制自己的情绪。”

“Control myself?” yelled Fern. “This is a matter of life and death, and you talk about controlling myself.” Tears ran down her cheeks and she took hold of the ax and tried to pull it out of her father’s hand.

“控制情绪？”芬恩大声嚷道：“这事儿关系到一条生命，而您却在说什么控制情绪。”她双手使劲拽住斧子，试图把它从爸爸的手中夺下来，委屈的泪水顺着脸颊不住地往下掉。

“He’s yours,” said Mr. Arable. “Saved from an untimely death. And may the good Lord forgive me for this foolishness.”

“它是你的了，”阿拉布尔先生说：“死里逃生的小家伙！我差点干了蠢事，愿上帝原谅我！”

Fern couldn’t take her eyes off the tiny pig. “Oh,” she whispered. “Oh, look at him! He’s absolutely perfect.”

芬恩已经舍不得把视线从小猪身上挪开了。“哇哦，”她小声地说：“哦，瞧啊！它可真是完美。”

She closed the carton carefully. First she kissed her father, then she kissed her mother. Then she opened the lid again, lifted the pig out, and held it against her cheek. At this moment her brother Avery came into the room. Avery was ten. He was heavily armed – an air rifle in one hand, a wooden dagger in the other.

她轻轻地盖上盒子，回过身去亲吻了一下父亲，接着又亲吻了一下母亲，然后再次打开了盒子，双手将小猪举到面前，用脸颊亲昵地蹭着。这时候她的哥哥艾弗里跑进了厨房，艾弗里今年十岁，他一只手提着玩具枪，另一只手握着木剑，一付全副武装的架势。

“What’s that?” he demanded. “What’s Fern got?”

“那是什么？”他嚷嚷着：“芬恩又得到什么好玩的啦？”

“She’s got a guest for breakfast,” said Mrs. Arable. “Wash your hands and face, Avery!”

“她啊，来了一位吃早餐的客人哟，”阿拉布尔太太说：“快去把脸洗一下，艾弗里！”

“Let’s see it!” said Avery, setting his gun down. “You call that miserable thing a pig? That’s a fine specimen of a pig – it’s no bigger than a white rat.”

“让我看看！”艾弗里放下手中的枪，凑过来瞧了瞧后，讥笑道：“你们称这个小东西是什么？一头猪吗？那可真是头精致的猪，连白老鼠都要比它来得大！”

“Wash up and eat your breakfast, Avery!” said his mother. “The school bus will be along in half an hour.”

“赶快洗完手去吃早餐，艾弗里！”母亲呵斥道：“校车还有半小时就要到了。”

“Can I have a pig, too, Pop?” asked Avery.

“我也可以弄头猪养养吗，老爸？”艾弗里将脸转向父亲。

“No, I only distribute pigs to early risers,” said Mr. Arable. “Fern was up at daylight, trying to rid the world of injustice. As a result, she now has a pig. A small one, to be sure, but nevertheless a pig. It just shows what can happen if a person gets out of bed promptly. Let’s eat!”

“不行！早起的孩子才能够得到小猪，”阿拉布尔先生说：“芬恩天刚亮就起床了，还努力地要维护正义呢。作为回报，她得到了一头小猪，虽然个头有点儿小，但总是头不折不扣的猪啊，这就是不赖床的好处！快点儿吃吧！”

But Fern couldn’t eat until her pig had had a drink of milk. Mrs. Arable found a baby’s nursing bottle and a rubber nipple.. She poured warm milk into the bottle, fitted the nipple over the top, and handed it to Fern. “Give him his breakfast!” she said.

然而没办法喂小猪喝牛奶，芬恩就吃不下饭。阿拉布尔太太翻出了一支婴儿用的奶瓶和一个橡皮奶嘴儿，她将热过的牛奶灌入瓶中，瓶口用奶嘴儿塞好，然后递给了芬恩。“用奶瓶来喂吧！”她说。

A minute later, Fern was seated on the floor in the corner of the kitchen with her infant between her knees, teaching it to suck from the bottle. The pig, although tiny, had a good appetite and caught on quickly.

很快，芬恩就坐在厨房角落的台阶上给小猪喂起奶来，她将小猪放在膝盖中间，开始教它怎么吮奶瓶，小猪很快学会了从奶瓶里喝奶，它个头虽然小，胃口倒挺大的，瓶子不一会儿就见底了。

The school bus honked from the road.

公路上响起了校车的喇叭声。

“Run!” command Mrs. Arable, taking the pig from Fern and slipping a doughnut into her hand. Avery grabbed his gun and another doughnut.

“快点儿！”阿拉布尔太太一边催促着，一边从芬恩手中接过了小猪，然后塞给了她一个甜面圈，握着枪的艾弗里同样也拿了一只甜面圈在手上。

The children ran out to the road and climbed into the bus. Fern took no notice of the others in the bus. She just sat and stared out of the window, thinking what a blissful world it was and how lucky she was to have entire charge of a pig. By the time the bus reached school, Fern had named her pet, selecting the most beautiful name she could thing of.

然后他们一溜小跑地向路边奔去，搭上了校车。芬恩一路都没有跟人讲话，而是直愣愣地望着窗外，觉得世界真是美好，她还完全沉浸在得到小猪的兴奋之中呢。等车子开到学校的时候，芬恩已经为自己的小猪想好了名字，一个她所能想到的最好听的名字。

“It’s name is Wilbur,” she whispered to herself.

“就叫它威伯好了！”她小声地对自己说。

She was still thinking about the pig when the teacher said: “Fern, what is the capital of Pennsylvania?”

上课的时候她还在一直想着小猪的事情，直到老师点名提问：“芬恩，宾夕法尼亚州的首府在哪儿？”

‘Wilbur,” replied Fern, dreamily. The pupils giggled. Fern blushed.

“威伯！”芬恩糊里糊涂地回答道。同学们哄堂大笑，芬恩的脸刷的一下红了。