worth more than ribbons? "
Mollie agreed, but she did not sound very convinced.
The pigs had an even harder struggle to counteract the lies put about by Moses, the tame raven. Moses, who
was Mr. Jones's especial pet, was a spy and a tale-bearer, but he was also a clever talker. He claimed to know
of the existence of a mysterious country called Sugarcandy Mountain, to which all animals went when they
died. It was situated somewhere up in the sky, a little distance beyond the clouds, Moses said. In Sugarcandy
Mountain it was Sunday seven days a week, clover was in season all the year round, and lump sugar and
linseed cake grew on the hedges. The animals hated Moses because he told tales and did no work, but some
of them believed in Sugarcandy Mountain, and the pigs had to argue very hard to persuade them that there
was no such place.
Their most faithful disciples were the two cart-horses, Boxer and Clover. These two had great difficulty in
thinking anything out for themselves, but having once accepted the pigs as their teachers, they absorbed
everything that they were told, and passed it on to the other animals by simple arguments. They were
unfailing in their attendance at the secret meetings in the barn, and led the singing of Beasts of England, with
which the meetings always ended.
Now, as it turned out, the Rebellion was achieved much earlier and more easily than anyone had expected. In
past years Mr. Jones, although a hard master, had been a capable farmer, but of late he had fallen on evil
days. He had become much disheartened after losing money in a lawsuit, and had taken to drinking more than
was good for him. For whole days at a time he would lounge in his Windsor chair in the kitchen, reading the
newspapers, drinking, and occasionally feeding Moses on crusts of bread soaked in beer. His men were idle
and dishonest, the fields were full of weeds, the buildings wanted roofing, the hedges were neglected, and the
animals were underfed.
June came and the hay was almost ready for cutting. On Midsummer's Eve, which was a Saturday, Mr. Jones
went into Willingdon and got so drunk at the Red Lion that he did not come back till midday on Sunday. The
men had milked the cows in the early morning and then had gone out rabbiting, without bothering to feed the
animals. When Mr. Jones got back he immediately went to sleep on the drawing-room sofa with the News of
the World over his face, so that when evening came, the animals were still unfed. At last they could stand it
no longer. One of the cows broke in the door of the store-shed with her horn and all the animals began to
help themselves from the bins. It was just then that Mr. Jones woke up. The next moment he and his four men
were in the store-shed with whips in their hands, lashing out in all directions. This was more than the hungry
animals could bear. With one accord, though nothing of the kind had been planned beforehand, they flung
themselves upon their tormentors. Jones and his men suddenly found themselves being butted and kicked
from all sides. The situation was quite out of their control. They had never seen animals behave like this
before, and this sudden uprising of creatures whom they were used to thrashing and maltreating just as they Animal Farm
II 6
chose, frightened them almost out of their wits. After only a moment or two they gave up trying to defend
themselves and took to their heels. A minute later all five of them were in full
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