Brother. No animal shall harm any other animal. All animals are equal. Now, guys, let me talk about that dream last night. It was a dream of a future world after the destruction of the human race, and I can't describe it. But it reminded me of something I'd forgotten. Many years ago, when I was a little pig, my mother and the other sows used to sing an old song. Even they could only remember the tune and the first three lines of the song. I was familiar with that tune when I was very young. But I've also forgotten about it for a long time. Last night, however, I recalled it in my dream, and even better, the lyrics appeared in my dream. The lyrics, I am sure, were the lyrics sung by animals long ago and lost for many generations. Now I want to sing for you, comrades, I am old and my voice is hoarse, but when I teach you, you will sing better. He's called the Beast of England. Old Mager cleared his throat and began to sing. His voice was hoarse, as he said, but he sang well. The song is impassioned and the melody is a bit between "Clementine" and "lacucuracha". The lyrics go like this: English beasts, Irish beasts, Beasts of the world, Hear my glad tidings, Listen to the golden future. That day will come sooner or later. The tyrannical human race will eventually disappear. The rich land of England, Will leave only our footprints. No more buckles in our noses, We no longer have saddles on our backs,Agate Slabs Countertops, Kicks and spurs will rust forever. No more cruel whips. A life of unimaginable opulence, Wheat, barley, hay, oats Alfalfa, soybeans, and sugar beets, That day will be all mine. On that day we will be free, The sun is shining on England. The water will be purer,White Marble Slabs, The wind is more gentle. Even if we don't live to see that day, But for the sake of that day, how can we be idle? Cows, horses, geese, chickens Blood and sweat must be shed for freedom. Beasts of England, beasts of Ireland, Beasts of the world, Hear my glad tidings, Listen to the golden future. Singing this song, the animals fell into an uncontrollable excitement. Almost before Mazur had finished singing, they began to sing by themselves. Even the dullest animal has learned the tune and the individual words. Clever ones, such as pigs and dogs, memorized the whole song in a few minutes. Then, after a few attempts, they suddenly sang in unison, and the whole manor echoed with the earth-shaking song. Cows Moo, white marble slabs ,Marble Granite Price, dogs bark, sheep bleat, horses hiss, ducks quack. Singing this song, they were so excited that they sang it five times in a row. If they hadn't been interrupted in the middle, they might have sung all night. Unfortunately, Mr. Jones was awakened by the noise. He thought there was a fox in the yard, so he jumped out of bed, picked up the shotgun that was always kept in the corner of the bedroom, and fired a shot into the darkness with a No.6 bullet loaded in the chamber. The bullet went into the wall of the barn. The meeting was dissolved in a hurry. The animals slipped back into their shacks. The fowls jumped on their shelves, the livestock lay down in the haystack, and in an instant the manor was silent. Contents Chapter II Three days later, old Mazur died peacefully in his sleep. The body was buried at the foot of the apple orchard. This was in early March. In the three months since then, there have been many secret activities. Mazur's speech brought a new concept of life to the more intelligent animals in the manor. They did not know when the rebellion predicted by Mager would take place, nor could they imagine that it would come in their lifetime. But they are well aware that it is their duty to prepare for it. The work of disciplining and organizing other animals naturally falls to the pig, who is unanimously considered to be the most intelligent of the animals. But the most outstanding of these were two male pigs, named Snowball and Napoleon, which Mr. Jones bred for sale. Napoleon was a Berkshire boar, the only Berkshire breed on the estate. He was big, fierce, quiet, and known for his stubbornness. Snowball, by contrast, was much cleverer, more eloquent, and more original, but did not seem to have the same depth of personality as Napoleon. All the other pigs on the farm are meat pigs. The most famous of them all was a short, fat pig named Squealer. With his round cheeks, twinkling eyes, quick movements, and squeaky voice, he was a rare orator. Especially when expounding some difficult points, he used to jump back and forth as he explained, and at the same time he flicked his tail. And that thing is somehow bewitching. The other animals spoke of Squealer as being able to call black white. The three pigs carefully pondered the old Mazur's instructions and worked out a complete ideological system, which they called "animalism". Several nights a week, after Mr. Jones had gone to sleep, they would hold secret meetings in the big barn to elaborate on the main points of animalism to the other animals. At first, they were aimed at animals that were dull and numb. Some of these animals also talked a lot about their duty of loyalty to Mr. Jones, regarding him as their "master" and making many shallow opinions, such as "Mr. Jones feeds us, and if he leaves, we will starve to death". Wait. Others ask questions like, "Why should we care about what happens after we die?" Or ask, "If rebellion is bound to happen, what does it matter whether we do it or not?" Therefore, in order to teach them that these statements are contrary to animalism, pigs have made great efforts. The silly question was put by Molly, the white filly, whose first question to Snowball was, "Is there any sugar left after the rebellion?" "No," said Snowball firmly, "we can't make sugar on the farm. Besides, you don't need sugar,Calacatta Quartz Slab, and you'll have all the oats and fodder you want." Can I still wear a sash on my mane? Asked Molly. "Comrade," said Snowball, "those ribbons you love so much are the marks of slaves. Don't you understand that freedom is more valuable than a sash? 。 forustone.com