Animal Farm

Animal Farm
George Orwell
1945

Mr. Jones, of the Manor Farm, had locked the hen-houses for the night, but
was too drunk to remember to shut the popholes. With the ring of light from
his lantern dancing from side to side, he lurched across the yard, kicked o_ his
boots at the back door, drew himself a last glass of beer from the barrel in the
scullery, and made his way up to bed, whereMrs. Jones was already snoring.
As soon as the light in the bedroom went out there was a stirring and a
uttering all through the farm buildings. Word had gone round during the day
that old Major, the prize Middle White boar, had had a strange dream on the
previous night and wished to communicate it to the other animals. It had been
agreed that they should all meet in the big barn as soon as Mr.Jones was safely
out of the way. Old Major (so he was always called, though the name under
which he had been exhibited was Willingdon Beauty) was so highly regarded on
the farm that everyone was quite ready to lose an hour's sleep in order to hear
what he had to say.
At one end of the big barn, on a sort of raised platform, Major was already
ensconced on his bed of straw, under a lanternwhich hung from a beam. He was
twelve years old and had lately grown rather stout, but he was still a majestic-
looking pig, with a wise and benevolent appearance in spite of the fact that his
tushes had never been cut. Before long the other animals began to arrive and
make themselves comfortable after their di_erent fashions. First came the three
dogs, Bluebell, Jessie, and Pincher, and thenthe pigs, who settled down in the
straw immediately in front of the platform. The hens perched themselves on
the window-sills, the pigeons uttered up to the rafters, the sheep and cows lay
down behind the pigs and began to chew the cud. The two cart-horses, Boxer
and Clover, came in together, walking very slowly and setting down their vast
hairy hoofs with great care lest there should be somesmall animal concealed in
the straw. Clover was a stout motherly mare approaching middle life, who had
never quite got her _gure back after her fourth foal. Boxer was an enormous
beast, nearly eighteen hands high, and as strong as any two ordinary horses put
together. A white stripe down his nose gave him a somewhat stupid appearance,
and in fact he was not of _rst-rate intelligence, but hewas universally respected
for his steadiness of character and tremendous powers of work. After the horses
came Muriel, the white goat, and Benjamin, the donkey. Benjamin was the
oldest animal on the farm, and the worst tempered. He seldom talked, and
when he did, it was usually to make some cynical remark | for instance, he
would say that God had given him a tail to keep the ies o_, but thathe would
sooner have had no tail and no ies. Alone among the animals on the farm he
never laughed. If asked why, he would say that he saw nothing to laugh at.
Nevertheless, without openly admitting it, he was devoted to Boxer; the two
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of them usually spent their Sundays together in the small paddock beyond the
orchard, grazing side by side and never speaking.
The two horses had just laindown when a brood of ducklings, which had lost
their mother, _led into the barn, cheeping feebly and wandering from side to
side to _nd some place where they would not be trodden on. Clover made a sort
of wall round them with her great foreleg, and the ducklings nestled down inside
it and promptly fell asleep. At the last moment Mollie, the foolish, pretty white
mare who drew Mr. Jones's trap,came mincing daintily in, chewing at a lump
of sugar. She took a place near the front and began irting her white mane,
hoping to draw attention to the red ribbons it was plaited with. Last of all came
the cat, who looked round, as usual, for the warmest place, and _nally squeezed
herself in between Boxer and Clover; there she purred contentedly throughout
Major's speech without listening...