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manure pile, full of energy and hope.
“Everybody watch!” he cried. And summoning all his strength, he threw himself into the air, headfirst. The string trailed behind him. But as he had neglected to fasten the other end to anything, it didn't really do any good, and Wilbur landed with a thud, crushed and hurt. Tears came to his eyes. Templeton grinned. Charlotte just sat quietly. After a bit she spoke.
“You can’t spin a web, Wilbur, and I advise you to put the idea out of your mind. You lack two things needed for spinning a web.”
“What are they?” asked Wilbur, sadly.
“You lack a set of spinnerets, and you lack know-how. But cheer up, you don't need a web. Zucherman supplies you with three big meals a day. Why should you worry about trapping food?”
Wilbur sighed. “You're ever so much cleverer and brighter than I am, Charlotte. I guess I was just trying to show off. Serves me right.”
Templeton untied his string and took it back to his home. Charlotte returned to her weaving.
“You needn't feel too badly, Wilbur,” she said. “Not many creatures can spin webs. Even men aren't as good at it as spiders, although they think they're pretty good, and they'll try anything. Did you ever hear of the Queensborough Bridge?”