1Years passed. 2The seasons came and went, the short animal lives fled by. 3A time came when there was no one who remembered the old days before the Rebellion, except Clover, Benjamin, Moses the raven, and a number of the pigs.
4Muriel was dead; Bluebell, Jessie, and Pincher were dead. 5Jones too was dead–he had died in an inebriates' home in another part of the country. 6Snowball was forgotten. 7Boxer was forgotten, except by the few who had known him. 8Clover was an old stout mare now, stiff in the joints and with a tendency to rheumy eyes. 9She was two years past the retiring age, but in fact no animal had ever actually retired. 10The talk of setting aside a corner of the pasture for superannuated animals had long since been dropped. 11Napoleon was now a mature boar of twenty-four stone. 12Squealer was so fat that he could with difficulty see out of his eyes. 13Only old Benjamin was much the same as ever, except for being a little greyer about the muzzle, and, since Boxer's death, more morose and taciturn than ever.
14There were many more creatures on the farm now, though the increase was not so great as had been expected in earlier years. 15Many animals had been born to whom the Rebellion was only a dim tradition, passed on by word of mouth, and others had been bought who had never heard mention of such a thing before their arrival. 16The farm possessed three horses now besides Clover. 17They were fine upstanding beasts, willing workers and good comrades, but very stupid. 18None of them proved able to learn the alphabet beyond the letter B. 19They accepted everything that they were told about the Rebellion and the principles of Animalism, especially from Clover, for whom they had an almost filial respect; but it was doubtful whether they understood very much of it.
20The farm was more prosperous now, and better organised: it had even been enlarged by two fields which had been bought from Mr. Pilkington. 21The windmill had been successfully completed at last, and the farm possessed a threshing machine and a hay elevator of its own, and various new buildings had been added to it. 22Whymper had bought himself a dogcart. 23The windmill, however, had not after all been used for generating electrical power. 24It was used for milling corn, and brought in a handsome money profit. 25The animals were hard at work building yet another windmill; when that one was finished, so it was said, the dynamos would be installed. 26But the luxuries of which Snowball had once taught the animals to dream, the stalls with electric light and hot and cold water, and the three-day week, were no longer talked about. 27Napoleon had denounced such ideas as contrary to the spirit of Animalism. 28The truest happiness, he said, lay in working hard and living frugally.
29Somehow it seemed as though the farm had grown richer without making the animals themselves any richer–except, of course, for the pigs and the dogs. 30Perhaps this was partly because there were so many pigs and so many dogs. 31It was not that these creatures did not work, after their fashion. 32There was, as Squealer was never tired of explaining, endless work in the supervision and organisation of the farm. 33Much of this work was of a kind that the other animals were too ignorant to understand. 34For example, Squealer told them that the pigs had to expend enormous labours every day upon mysterious things called "files," "reports," "minutes," and "memoranda." 35These were large sheets of paper which had to be closely covered with writing, and as soon as they were so covered, they were burnt in the furnace. 36This was of the highest importance for the welfare of the farm, Squealer said. 37But still, neither pigs nor dogs produced any food by their own labour; and there were very many of them, and their appetites were always good.
38As for the others, their life, so far as they knew, was as it had always been. 39They were generally hungry, they slept on straw, they drank from the pool, they laboured in the fields; in winter they were troubled by the cold, and in summer by the flies. 40Sometimes the older ones among them racked their dim memories and tried to determine whether in the early days of the Rebellion, when Jones's expulsion was still recent, things had been better or worse than now. 41They could not remember. 42There was nothing with which they could compare their present lives: they had nothing to go upon except Squealer's lists of figures, which invariably demonstrated that everything was getting better and better. 43The animals found the problem insoluble; in any case, they had little time for speculating on such things now. 44Only old Benjamin professed to remember every detail of his long life and to know that things never had been, nor ever could be much better or much worse–hunger, hardship, and disappointment being, so he said, the unalterable law of life.
45And yet the animals never gave up hope. 46More, they never lost, even for an instant, their sense of honour and privilege in being members of Animal Farm. 47They were still the only farm in the whole county–in all England!–owned and operated by animals. 48Not one of them, not even the youngest, not even the newcomers who had been brought from farms ten or twenty miles away, ever ceased to marvel at that. 49And when they heard the gun booming and saw the green flag fluttering at the masthead, their hearts swelled with imperishable pride, and the talk turned always towards the old heroic days, the expulsion of Jones, the writing of the Seven Commandments, the great battles in which the human invaders had been defeated. 50None of the old dreams had been abandoned. 51The Republic of the Animals which Major had foretold, when the green fields of England should be untrodden by human feet, was still believed in. 52Some day it was coming: it might not be soon, it might not be with in the lifetime of any animal now living, but still it was coming. 53Even the tune of Beasts of England was perhaps hummed secretly here and there: at any rate, it was a fact that every animal on the farm knew it, though no one would have dared to sing it aloud. 54It might be that their lives were hard and that not all of their hopes had been fulfilled; but they were conscious that they were not as other animals. 55If they went hungry, it was not from feeding tyrannical human beings; if they worked hard, at least they worked for themselves. 56No creature among them went upon two legs. 57No creature called any other creature "Master." 58All animals were equal.
59One day in early summer Squealer ordered the sheep to follow him, and led them out to a piece of waste ground at the other end of the farm, which had become overgrown with birch saplings. 60The sheep spent the whole day there browsing at the leaves under Squealer's supervision. 61In the evening he returned to the farmhouse himself, but, as it was warm weather, told the sheep to stay where they were. 62It ended by their remaining there for a whole week, during which time the other animals saw nothing of them. 63Squealer was with them for the greater part of every day. 64He was, he said, teaching them to sing a new song, for which privacy was needed.
65It was just after the sheep had returned, on a pleasant evening when the animals had finished work and were making their way back to the farm buildings, that the terrified neighing of a horse sounded from the yard. 66Startled, the animals stopped in their tracks. 67It was Clover's voice. 68She neighed again, and all the animals broke into a gallop and rushed into the yard. 69Then they saw what Clover had seen.
70It was a pig walking on his hind legs.
71Yes, it was Squealer. 72A little awkwardly, as though not quite used to supporting his considerable bulk in that position, but with perfect balance, he was strolling across the yard. 73And a moment later, out from the door of the farmhouse came a long file of pigs, all walking on their hind legs. 74Some did it better than others, one or two were even a trifle unsteady and looked as though they would have liked the support of a stick, but every one of them made his way right round the yard successfully. 75And finally there was a tremendous baying of dogs and a shrill crowing from the black cockerel, and out came Napoleon himself, majestically upright, casting haughty glances from side to side, and with his dogs gambolling round him.
76He carried a whip in his trotter.
77There was a deadly silence. 78Amazed, terrified, huddling together, the animals watched the long line of pigs march slowly round the yard. 79It was as though the world had turned upside-down. 80Then there came a moment when the first shock had worn off and when, in spite of everything–in spite of their terror of the dogs, and of the habit, developed through long years, of never complaining, never criticising, no matter what happened–they might have uttered some word of protest. 81But just at that moment, as though at a signal, all the sheep burst out into a tremendous bleating of–
82"Four legs good, two legs better! 83Four legs good, two legs better! 84Four legs good, two legs better!"
85It went on for five minutes without stopping. 86And by the time the sheep had quieted down, the chance to utter any protest had passed, for the pigs had marched back into the farmhouse.
87Benjamin felt a nose nuzzling at his shoulder. 88He looked round. 89It was Clover. 90Her old eyes looked dimmer than ever. 91Without saying anything, she tugged gently at his mane and led him round to the end of the big barn, where the Seven Commandments were written. 92For a minute or two they stood gazing at the tatted wall with its white lettering.
93"My sight is failing," she said finally. 94"Even when I was young I could not have read what was written there. 95But it appears to me that that wall looks different. 96Are the Seven Commandments the same as they used to be, Benjamin?"
97For once Benjamin consented to break his rule, and he read out to her what was written on the wall. 98There was nothing there now except a single Commandment. 99It ran:
100After that it did not seem strange when next day the pigs who were supervising the work of the farm all carried whips in their trotters. 101It did not seem strange to learn that the pigs had bought themselves a wireless set, were arranging to install a telephone, and had taken out subscriptions to John Bull, TitBits, and the Daily Mirror. 102It did not seem strange when Napoleon was seen strolling in the farmhouse garden with a pipe in his mouth–no, not even when the pigs took Mr. Jones's clothes out of the wardrobes and put them on, Napoleon himself appearing in a black coat, ratcatcher breeches, and leather leggings, while his favourite sow appeared in the watered silk dress which Mrs. Jones had been used to wear on Sundays.
103A week later, in the afternoon, a number of dogcarts drove up to the farm. 104A deputation of neighbouring farmers had been invited to make a tour of inspection. 105They were shown all over the farm, and expressed great admiration for everything they saw, especially the windmill. 106The animals were weeding the turnip field. 107They worked diligently, hardly raising their faces from the ground, and not knowing whether to be more frightened of the pigs or of the human visitors.
108That evening loud laughter and bursts of singing came from the farmhouse. 109And suddenly, at the sound of the mingled voices, the animals were stricken with curiosity. 110What could be happening in there, now that for the first time animals and human beings were meeting on terms of equality? 111With one accord they began to creep as quietly as possible into the farmhouse garden.
112At the gate they paused, half frightened to go on but Clover led the way in. 113They tiptoed up to the house, and such animals as were tall enough peered in at the dining-room window. 114There, round the long table, sat half a dozen farmers and half a dozen of the more eminent pigs, Napoleon himself occupying the seat of honour at the head of the table. 115The pigs appeared completely at ease in their chairs The company had been enjoying a game of cards but had broken off for the moment, evidently in order to drink a toast. 116A large jug was circulating, and the mugs were being refilled with beer. 117No one noticed the wondering faces of the animals that gazed in at the window.
118Mr. Pilkington, of Foxwood, had stood up, his mug in his hand. 119In a moment, he said, he would ask the present company to drink a toast. 120But before doing so, there were a few words that he felt it incumbent upon him to say.
121It was a source of great satisfaction to him, he said–and, he was sure, to all others present–to feel that a long period of mistrust and misunderstanding had now come to an end. 122There had been a time–not that he, or any of the present company, had shared such sentiments–but there had been a time when the respected proprietors of Animal Farm had been regarded, he would not say with hostility, but perhaps with a certain measure of misgiving, by their human neighbours. 123Unfortunate incidents had occurred, mistaken ideas had been current. 124It had been felt that the existence of a farm owned and operated by pigs was somehow abnormal and was liable to have an unsettling effect in the neighbourhood. 125Too many farmers had assumed, without due enquiry, that on such a farm a spirit of licence and indiscipline would prevail. 126They had been nervous about the effects upon their own animals, or even upon their human employees. 127But all such doubts were now dispelled. 128Today he and his friends had visited Animal Farm and inspected every inch of it with their own eyes, and what did they find? 129Not only the most up-to-date methods, but a discipline and an orderliness which should be an example to all farmers everywhere. 130He believed that he was right in saying that the lower animals on Animal Farm did more work and received less food than any animals in the county. 131Indeed, he and his fellow-visitors today had observed many features which they intended to introduce on their own farms immediately.
132He would end his remarks, he said, by emphasising once again the friendly feelings that subsisted, and ought to subsist, between Animal Farm and its neighbours. 133Between pigs and human beings there was not, and there need not be, any clash of interests whatever. 134Their struggles and their difficulties were one. 135Was not the labour problem the same everywhere? 136Here it became apparent that Mr. Pilkington was about to spring some carefully prepared witticism on the company, but for a moment he was too overcome by amusement to be able to utter it. 137After much choking, during which his various chins turned purple, he managed to get it out: "If you have your lower animals to contend with," he said, "we have our lower classes!" 138This bon mot set the table in a roar; and Mr. Pilkington once again congratulated the pigs on the low rations, the long working hours, and the general absence of pampering which he had observed on Animal Farm.
139And now, he said finally, he would ask the company to rise to their feet and make certain that their glasses were full. 140"Gentlemen," concluded Mr. Pilkington, "gentlemen, I give you a toast: To the prosperity of Animal Farm!"
141There was enthusiastic cheering and stamping of feet. 142Napoleon was so gratified that he left his place and came round the table to clink his mug against Mr. Pilkington's before emptying it. 143When the cheering had died down, Napoleon, who had remained on his feet, intimated that he too had a few words to say.
144Like all of Napoleon's speeches, it was short and to the point. 145He too, he said, was happy that the period of misunderstanding was at an end. 146For a long time there had been rumours–circulated, he had reason to think, by some malignant enemy–that there was something subversive and even revolutionary in the outlook of himself and his colleagues. 147They had been credited with attempting to stir up rebellion among the animals on neighbouring farms. 148Nothing could be further from the truth! 149Their sole wish, now and in the past, was to live at peace and in normal business relations with their neighbours. 150This farm which he had the honour to control, he added, was a co-operative enterprise. 151The title-deeds, which were in his own possession, were owned by the pigs jointly.
152He did not believe, he said, that any of the old suspicions still lingered, but certain changes had been made recently in the routine of the farm which should have the effect of promoting confidence stiff further. 153Hitherto the animals on the farm had had a rather foolish custom of addressing one another as "Comrade." 154This was to be suppressed. 155There had also been a very strange custom, whose origin was unknown, of marching every Sunday morning past a boar's skull which was nailed to a post in the garden. 156This, too, would be suppressed, and the skull had already been buried. 157His visitors might have observed, too, the green flag which flew from the masthead. 158If so, they would perhaps have noted that the white hoof and horn with which it had previously been marked had now been removed. 159It would be a plain green flag from now onwards.
160He had only one criticism, he said, to make of Mr. Pilkington's excellent and neighbourly speech. 161Mr. Pilkington had referred throughout to "Animal Farm." 162He could not of course know–for he, Napoleon, was only now for the first time announcing it–that the name "Animal Farm" had been abolished. 163Henceforward the farm was to be known as "The Manor Farm"–which, he believed, was its correct and original name.
164"Gentlemen," concluded Napoleon, "I will give you the same toast as before, but in a different form. 165Fill your glasses to the brim. 166Gentlemen, here is my toast: To the prosperity of The Manor Farm! "
167There was the same hearty cheering as before, and the mugs were emptied to the dregs. 168But as the animals outside gazed at the scene, it seemed to them that some strange thing was happening. 169What was it that had altered in the faces of the pigs? 170Clover's old dim eyes flitted from one face to another. 171Some of them had five chins, some had four, some had three. 172But what was it that seemed to be melting and changing? 173Then, the applause having come to an end, the company took up their cards and continued the game that had been interrupted, and the animals crept silently away.
174But they had not gone twenty yards when they stopped short. 175An uproar of voices was coming from the farmhouse. 176They rushed back and looked through the window again. 177Yes, a violent quarrel was in progress. 178There were shoutings, bangings on the table, sharp suspicious glances, furious denials. 179The source of the trouble appeared to be that Napoleon and Mr. Pilkington had each played an ace of spades simultaneously.
180Twelve voices were shouting in anger, and they were all alike. 181No question, now, what had happened to the faces of the pigs. 182The creatures outside looked from pig to man, and from man to pig, and from pig to man again; but already it was impossible to say which was which.