Resumen
Wheres Papa going with that axe? said Fern to her mother as they were setting the table for breakfast. Out to the hoghouse, replied Mrs. Arable. Some pigs were born last night. I dont see why he needs an axe, continued Fern, who was only eight. Well, said her mother, one of the pigs is a runt. Its very small and weak, and it will never amount to anything. So your father has decided to do away with it. Do away with it? shrieked Fern. You mean kill it? Just because its smaller than the others? Mrs. Arable put a pitcher of cream on the table. Dont yell, Fern! she said. Your father is right. The pig would probably die anyway. Fern pushed a chair out of the way and ran outdoors. The grass was wet and the earth smelled of springtime. Ferns sneakers were sopping by the time she caught up with her father. Please dont kill it! she sobbed. Its unfair. Mr. Arable stopped walking. Fern, he said gently, you will have to learn to control yourself. 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 axe and tried to pull it out of her fathers hand. Fern, said Mr. Arablet I know more about raising a litter of pigs than you do. A weakling makes trouble. Now run along! But its unfair, cried Fern. The pig couldnt help being born small, could it? If I had been very small at birth, would you have killed me? Mr. Arable smiled. Certainly not, he said, looking down at his daughter with love. But this is different. A little girl is one thing, a little runty pig is another. I see no difference, replied Fern, still hanging on to the axe. This is the most terrible case of injustice I ever heard of. A queer look came over John Arables face. He seemed almost ready to cry himself. All right, he said. You go back to the house and I will bring the runt when I come in. Ill let you raise it on a bottle, like a baby. Then you<
