Animal Farm | Page 4

be trod by beasts alone.
Rings shall vanish from our noses,
And the harness from our back,
Bit and spur shall rust forever,
Cruel whips no more shall crack.
Riches more than mind can picture,
Wheat and barley, oats and hay,
Clover, beans, and mangel-wurzels
Shall be ours upon that day.
Bright will shine the fields of England,
Purer shall its waters be,
Sweeter yet shall blow its breezes
On the day that sets us free.
For that day we all must labour,
Though we die before it break;


Animal Farm


Animal Farm

Cows and horses, geese and turkeys,

All must toil for freedom's sake.

Beasts of England, beasts of Ireland,

Beasts of every land and clime,

Hearken well and spread my tidings

Of the golden future time.

The singing of this song threw the animals into the wildest excitement. Almost before Major had reached the
end, they had begun singing it for themselves. Even the stupidest of them had already picked up the tune and
a few of the words, and as for the clever ones, such as the pigs and dogs, they had the entire song by heart
within a few minutes. And then, after a few preliminary tries, the whole farm burst out into Beasts of
England in tremendous unison. The cows lowed it, the dogs whined it, the sheep bleated it, the horses
whinnied it, the ducks quacked it. They were so delighted with the song that they sang it right through five
times in succession, and might have continued singing it all night if they had not been interrupted.

Unfortunately, the uproar awoke Mr. Jones, who sprang out of bed, making sure that there was a fox in the
yard. He seized the gun which always stood in a corner of his bedroom, and let fly a charge of number 6 shot
into the darkness. The pellets buried themselves in the wall of the barn and the meeting broke up hurriedly.
Everyone fled to his own sleeping-place. The birds jumped on to their perches, the animals settled down in
the straw, and the whole farm was asleep in a moment.

II

THREE nights later old Major died peacefully in his sleep. His body was buried at the foot of the orchard.

This was early in March. During the next three months there was much secret activity. Major's speech had
given to the more intelligent animals on the farm a completely new outlook on life. They did not know when
the Rebellion predicted by Major would take place, they had no reason for thinking that it would be within
their own lifetime, but they saw clearly that it was their duty to prepare for it. The work of teaching and
organising the others fell naturally upon the pigs, who were generally recognised as being the cleverest of the
animals. Pre-eminent among the pigs were two young boars named Snowball and Napoleon, whom Mr.
Jones was breeding up for sale. Napoleon was a large, rather fierce-looking Berkshire boar, the only
Berkshire on the farm, not much of a talker, but with a reputation for getting his own way. Snowball was a
more vivacious pig than Napoleon, quicker in speech and more inventive, but was not considered to have the
same depth of character. All the other male pigs on the farm were porkers. The best known among them was
a small fat pig named Squealer, with very round cheeks, twinkling eyes, nimble movements, and a shrill
voice. He was a brilliant talker, and when he was arguing some difficult point he had a way of skipping from
side to side and whisking his tail which was somehow very persuasive. The others said of Squealer that he
could turn black into white.

These three had elaborated old Major's teachings into a complete system of thought, to which they gave the
name of Animalism. Several nights a week, after Mr. Jones was asleep, they held secret meetings in the barn
and expounded the principles of Animalism to the others. At the beginning they met with much stupidity and
apathy. Some of the animals talked of the duty of loyalty to Mr. Jones, whom they referred to as "Master," or
made elementary remarks such as "Mr. Jones feeds us. If he were gone, we should starve to death." Others

II 5



Animal Farm

asked such questions as "Why should we care what happens after we are dead?" or "If this Rebellion is to
happen anyway, what difference does it make whether we work for it or not?", and the pigs had great
difficulty in making them see that this was contrary to the spirit of Animalism. The stupidest questions of all
were asked by Mollie, the white mare. The very first question she asked Snowball was: "Will there still