MR.And then,
after a few preliminary tries, the whole farm burst out into Beasts of
England in tremendous unison.The cows lowed it, the dogs whined it,
the sheep bleated it, the horses whinnied it, the ducks quacked it. They
were so delighted with the song that they sang it right through five
times in succession, and might have continued singing it all night if
they had not been interrupted.The two horses had just lain down when a brood of ducklings, which
had lost their mother, filed into the barn, cheeping feebly and
wandering from side to side to find 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.The hens perched
themselves on the window-sills, the pigeons fluttered up to the rafters,
the sheep and cows lay down behind the pigs and began to chew thecud.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 some small animal concealed in the straw.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 of them usually spent their Sundays together in the small
paddock beyond the orchard, grazing side by side and never speaking."And remember, comrades, your resolution must never falter. No
argument must lead you astray. Never listen when they tell you that
Man and the animals have a common interest, that the prosperity of the
one is the prosperity of the others. It is all lies. Man serves the interests
of no creature except himself. And among us animals let there be
perfect unity, perfect comradeship in the struggle. All men are enemies. All animals are comrades.""And now, comrades, I will tell you about my dream of last night. I
cannot describe that dream to you. It was a dream of the earth as it will
be when Man has vanished. But it reminded me of something that I had
long forgotten. Many years ago, when I was a little pig, my mother and
the other sows used to sing an old song of which they knew only the
tune and the first three words. I had known that tune in my infancy, but
it had long since passed out of my mind. Last night, however, it came
back to me in my dream. And what is more, the words of the song also
came back-words, I am certain, which were sung by the animals of long
ago and have been lost to memory for generations. I will sing you that
song now, comrades. I am old and my voice is hoarse, but when I have
taught you the tune, you can sing it better for yourselves. It is called
Beasts of England."Riches more than mind can picture,
Wheat and barley, oats and hay,
Clover, beans, and mangel-wurzels
Shall be ours upon that day.Last of all came the cat, who looked round, as usual, for the warmest
place, and finally squeezed herself in between Boxer and Clover; there
she purred contentedly throughout Major's speech without listening to a
word of what he was saying.Clover was a
stout motherly mare approaching middle life, who had never quite got
her figure back after her fourth foal.A white stripe down his nose gave him a somewhat stupid
appearance, and in fact he was not of first-rate intelligence, but he was
universally respected for his steadiness of character and tremendous
powers of work.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.As he had said, his
voice was hoarse, but he sang well enough, and it was a stirring tunesomething between Clementine and La Cucaracha.The words ran:
Beasts of England, beasts of Ireland,
Beasts of every land and clime,
Hearken to my joyful tidings
Of the golden future time.Soon or late the day is coming,
Tyrant Man shall be o'erthrown,
And the fruitful fields of England
Shall be trod by beasts alone.Rings shall vanish from our noses,
And the harness from our back,
Bit and spur shall rust forever,
Cruel whips no more shall crack.With the
ring of light from his lantern dancing from side to side, he lurched
across the yard, kicked off 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, where Mrs. Jones was already snoring.At one end of the big barn, on a sort of raised platform, Major was
already ensconced on his bed of straw, under a lantern which hung from
a beam.Bright will shine the fields of England,
Purer shall its waters be,
Sweeter yet shall blow its breezes
On the day that sets us free.For that day we all must labourThough we die before it break;
Cows and horses, geese and turkeys,
All must toil for freedom's sake.Beasts of England, beasts of Ireland,
Beasts of every land and clime,
Hearken well and spread my tidings
Of the golden future time.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.First came the three dogs,
Bluebell, Jessie, and Pincher, and then the pigs, who settled down in the
straw immediately in front of the platform.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 flies off, but that he would sooner
have had no tail and no flies.All the animals were now present except Moses, the tame raven, who
slept on a perch behind the back door.JONES, of the Manor Farm, had locked the hen-houses for the
night, but was too drunk to remember to shut the popholes.As soon as the light in the bedroom went out there was a stirring and a
fluttering 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.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.She took a place near the front and began flirting her white
mane, hoping to draw attention to the red ribbons it was plaited with.While Major wasspeaking four large rats had crept out of their holes and were sitting on
their hindquarters, listening to him.Unfortunately, the uproar awoke Mr. Jones, who sprang out of bed,
making sure that there was a fox in the yard.After the horses came Muriel, the white goat, and
Benjamin, the donkey.At this moment there was a tremendous uproar.The dogs had suddenly caught sight
of them, and it was only by a swift dash for their holes that the rats
saved their lives.The wild
creatures, such as rats and rabbits-are they our friends or our enemies?The pellets buried themselves in the wall of
the barn and the meeting broke up hurriedly.The birds jumped on to their perches, the animals
settled down in the straw, and the whole farm was asleep in a moment.Before long the other animals began to arrive and make themselves
comfortable after their different fashions.Boxer was an enormous beast,
nearly eighteen hands high, and as strong as any two ordinary horses
put together.Benjamin was the oldest animal on the farm,
and the worst tempered.Major raised his trotter for silence."Comrades," he said, "here is a point that must be settled.The singing of this song threw the animals into the wildest excitement.Even the stupidest of them had already picked up the tune
and a few of the words, and as for the clever ones, such as the pigs and
dogs, they had the entire song by heart within a few minutes.He seized the gun which
always stood in a corner of his bedroom, and let fly a charge of number
6 shot into the darkness.Everyone fled to his own
sleeping-place.It had been agreed that they should all meet in the big barn as
soon as Mr. Jones was safely out of the way.Alone among the animals on the farm he
never laughed.Let us put it to the vote.Old Major cleared his throat and began to sing.Almost before Major had reached the end, they had begun singing it for
themselves.