All winter Wilbur watched over Charlotte's egg sac as though he were guarding his own children.He had scooped out a special place in the manure for the sac, next to the board fence.On very cold nights he lay so that his breath would warm it.For Wilbur, nothing in life was so important as this small round object - nothing else mattered.Patiently he awaited the end of winter and the coming of the little spiders.Life is always a rich and steady time when you are waiting for something to happen or to hatch.The winter ended at last."I heard the frogs today," said the old sheep one evening."Listen! You can hear them now."Wilbur stood still and cocked his ears.From the pond, in shrill chorus, came the voices of hundreds of little frogs."Springtime," said the old sheep, thoughtfully. "Another spring."As she walked away, Wilbur saw a new lamb following her.It was only a few hours old.The snows melted and ran away.The streams and ditches bubbled and chattered with rushing water.A sparrow with a streaky breast arrived and sang.The light strengthened, the mornings came sooner.Almost every morning there was another new lamb in the sheepfold.The goose was sitting on nine eggs.The sky seemed wider and a warm wind blew.The last remaining strands of Charlotte's old web floated away and vanished.