Animal Farm | Page 8

eyes had gathered up the very last stalk. And not an animal on the farm had stolen
so much as a mouthful.

All through that summer the work of the farm went like clockwork. The animals were happy as they had
never conceived it possible to be. Every mouthful of food was an acute positive pleasure, now that it was
truly their own food, produced by themselves and for themselves, not doled out to them by a grudging
master. With the worthless parasitical human beings gone, there was more for everyone to eat. There was
more leisure too, inexperienced though the animals were. They met with many difficulties-for instance, later
in the year, when they harvested the corn, they had to tread it out in the ancient style and blow away the chaff
with their breath, since the farm possessed no threshing machine-but the pigs with their cleverness and Boxer
with his tremendous muscles always pulled them through. Boxer was the admiration of everybody. He had
been a hard worker even in Jones's time, but now he seemed more like three horses than one; there were days
when the entire work of the farm seemed to rest on his mighty shoulders. From morning to night he was
pushing and pulling, always at the spot where the work was hardest. He had made an arrangement with one of
the cockerels to call him in the mornings half an hour earlier than anyone else, and would put in some
volunteer labour at whatever seemed to be most needed, before the regular day's work began. His answer to
every problem, every setback, was "I will work harder!"-which he had adopted as his personal motto.

But everyone worked according to his capacity The hens and ducks, for instance, saved five bushels of corn
at the harvest by gathering up the stray grains. Nobody stole, nobody grumbled over his rations, the
quarrelling and biting and jealousy which had been normal features of life in the old days had almost
disappeared. Nobody shirked-or almost nobody. Mollie, it was true, was not good at getting up in the
mornings, and had a way of leaving work early on the ground that there was a stone in her hoof. And the
behaviour of the cat was somewhat peculiar. It was soon noticed that when there was work to be done the cat
could never be found. She would vanish for hours on end, and then reappear at meal-times, or in the evening
after work was over, as though nothing had happened. But she always made such excellent excuses, and

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Animal Farm

purred so affectionately, that it was impossible not to believe in her good intentions. Old Benjamin, the
donkey, seemed quite unchanged since the Rebellion. He did his work in the same slow obstinate way as he
had done it in Jones's time, never shirking and never volunteering for extra work either. About the Rebellion
and its results he would express no opinion. When asked whether he was not happier now that Jones was
gone, he would say only "Donkeys live a long time. None of you has ever seen a dead donkey," and the
others had to be content with this cryptic answer.

On Sundays there was no work. Breakfast was an hour later than usual, and after breakfast there was a
ceremony which was observed every week without fail. First came the hoisting of the flag. Snowball had
found in the harness-room an old green tablecloth of Mrs. Jones's and had painted on it a hoof and a horn in
white. This was run up the flagstaff in the farmhouse garden every Sunday 8, morning. The flag was green,
Snowball explained, to represent the green fields of England, while the hoof and horn signified the future
Republic of the Animals which would arise when the human race had been finally overthrown. After the
hoisting of the flag all the animals trooped into the big barn for a general assembly which was known as the
Meeting. Here the work of the coming week was planned out and resolutions were put forward and debated.
It was always the pigs who put forward the resolutions. The other animals understood how to vote, but could
never think of any resolutions of their own. Snowball and Napoleon were by far the most active in the
debates. But it was noticed that these two were never in agreement: whatever suggestion either of them made,
the other could be counted on to oppose it. Even when it was resolved-a thing no one could object to in
itself-to set aside the small paddock behind the orchard as a home of rest for animals who were past work,
there was a stormy debate over the correct retiring age for each class of animal.