HOW they toiled and sweated to get
the hay in! But their efforts were rewarded, for the harvest was an even
bigger success than they had hoped.
Sometimes the work was hard; the implements had been designed for human
beings and not for animals, and it was a great drawback that no animal was
able to use any tool that involved standing on his hind legs. But the pigs
were so clever that they could think of a way round every difficulty. As for
the horses, they knew every inch of the field, and in fact understood the
business of mowing and raking far better than Jones and his men had ever done.
The pigs did not actually work, but directed and supervi sed the others. With
their superior knowledge it was natural that they should assume the
leadership. Boxer and Clover would harness themselves to the cutter or the
horse-rake (no bits or reins were needed in these days, of course) and tramp
steadily round and round the field with a pig walking behind and calling out
"Gee up, comrade!" or "Whoa back, comrade!" as the case might be. And every
animal down to the humblest worked at turning the hay and gathering it. Even
the ducks and hens toiled to and fro all day in the sun, carrying tiny wisps
of hay in their beaks. In the end they finished the harvest in two days' less
time than it had usually taken Jones and his men. Moreover, it was the biggest
harvest that the farm had ever seen. There was no wastage whatever; the hens
and ducks with their sharp 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 ins tance, 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 shou lders. 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. A nd 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 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 sl ow 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 si gnified 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. The Meeting always ended with the singing of Beasts of England,
and the afternoon was given up to recreation.
The pigs had set aside the harness-room as a headquarters for themselves.
Here, in the evenings, they studied blacksmithing, carpentering, and other
necessary arts from books which they had brought out of the farmhouse.
Snowball also busied himself with organising the other animals into what he
called Animal Committees. He was indefatigable at this. He formed the Egg
Production Committee for the hens, the Clean Tails League for the cows, the
Wild Comrades' Re-education Committee (the object of this was to tame the rats
and rabbits), the Whiter Wool Movement for the sheep, and various others,
besides instituting classes in reading and writing. On the whole, these
projects were a failure. The attempt to tame the wild creatures, for instance,
broke down almost immediately. They continued to behave very much as before,
and when treated with generosity, simply took advantage of it. The cat joined
the Re-education Committee and was very active in it for some days. She was
seen one day sitting on a roof and talk ing to some sparrows who were just out
of her reach. She was telling them that all animals were now comrades and that
any sparrow who chose could come and perch on her paw; but the sparrows kept
their distance.
The reading and writing classes, however, were a great success. By the
autumn almost every animal on the farm was literate in some degree.
As for the pigs, they could already read and write perfectly. The dogs
learned to read fairly well, but were not interested in reading anything
except the Seven Commandments. Muriel, the goat, could read somewhat better
than the dogs, and sometimes used to read to the others in the evenings from
scraps of newspaper which she found on the rubbish heap. Benjamin could read
as well as any pig, but never exercised his faculty. So far as he knew, he
said, there was nothing worth reading. Clover learnt the wh ole alphabet, but
could not put words together. Boxer could not get beyond the letter D. He
would trace out A, B, C, D, in the dust with his great hoof, and then would
stand staring at the letters with his ears back, sometimes shaking his
forelock, trying with all his might to remember what came next and never
succeeding. On several occasions, indeed, he did learn E, F, G, H, but by the
time he knew them, it was always discovered that he had forgotten A, B, C, and
D. Finally he decided to be content with th e first four letters, and used to
write them out once or twice every day to refresh his memory. Mollie refused
to learn any but the six letters which spelt her own name. She would form
these very neatly out of pieces of twig, and would then decorate them with a
flower or two and walk round them admiring them.
None of the other animals on the farm could get further than the letter A.
It was also found that the stupider animals, such as the sheep, hens, and
ducks, were unable to learn the Seven Commandments by heart. After much
thought Snowball declared that the Seven Commandments could in effect be
reduced to a single maxim, namely: "Four legs good, two legs bad." This, he
said, contained the essential principle of Animalism. Whoever had thoroughly
grasped it would be safe from human influences. The birds at first objected,
since it seemed to them that they also had two legs, but Snowball proved to
them that this was not so.
"A bird's wing, comrades," he said, "is an organ of propulsion and not of
manipulation. It should therefore be regarded as a leg. The distinguishing
mark of man is the hand, the instrument with which he does all his
mischief."
The birds did not understand Snowball's long words, but they accepted his
explanation, and all the humbler animals set to work to learn the new maxim by
heart. FOUR LEGS GOOD, TWO LEGS BAD, was inscribed on the
end wall of the barn, above the Seven Commandments and in bigger letters When
they had once got it by heart, the sheep developed a great liking for this
maxim, and often as they lay in the field they would all start bleating "Four
legs good, two legs bad! Four legs good, two legs bad!" and keep it up for
hours on end, never growing tired of it.
Napoleon took no interest in Snowball's committees. He said that the
education of the young was more important than anything that could be done for
those who were already grown up. It happened that Jessie and Bluebell had both
whelped soon after the hay harvest, giving birth between them to nine sturdy
puppies. As soon as they were weaned, Napoleon took them away from their
mothers, saying that he would make himself responsible for their education. He
took them up into a loft which could only be reached by a ladder from the
harness-room, and there kept them in such seclusion that the rest of the farm
soon forgot their existence.
The mystery of where the milk went to was soon cleared up. It was mixed
every day into the pigs' mash. The early apples were now ripening, and the
grass of the orchard was littered with windfalls. The animals had assumed as a
matter of course that these would be shared out equally; one day, however, the
order went forth that all the windfalls were to be collected and brought to
the harness-room for the use of the pigs. At this some of the other animals
murmured, but it was no use. All the pigs were in f ull agreement on this
point, even Snowball and Napoleon. Squealer was sent to make the necessary
explanations to the others.
"Comrades!" he cried. "You do not imagine, I hope, that we pigs are doing
this in a spirit of selfishness and privilege? Many of us actually dislike
milk and apples. I dislike them myself. Our sole object in taking these things
is to preserve our health. Milk and apples (this has been proved by Science,
comrades) contain substances absolutely necessary to the well-being of a pig.
We pigs are brainworkers. The whole management and organisation of this farm
depend on us. Day and night we are watching over your welfare. It is for your
sake that we drink that milk and eat those apples. Do you know what would
happen if we pigs failed in our duty? Jones would come back! Yes, Jones would
come back! Surely, comrades," cried Squealer almost pleadingly, skipping from
side to side and whisking his tail, "surely there is no one among you who
wants to see Jones come back?"
Now if there was one thing that the animals were completely certain of, it
was that they did not want Jones back. When it was put to them in this light,
they had no more to say. The importance of keeping the pigs in good health was
all too obvious. So it was agreed without further argument that the milk and
the windfall apples (and also the main crop of apples when they ripened)
should be reserved for the pigs alone.
