THREE nights later old Major died peacefully in his sleep. His body was buried at the foot of the
orchard.
This was early in March. During the next three months there was much secret activity. Major's
speech had given to the more intelligent animals on the farm a completely new outlook on life. They
did not know when the Rebellion predicted by Major would take place, they had no reason for
thinking that it would be within their own lifetime, but they saw clearly that it was their duty to
prepare for it. The work of teaching and organising the others fell naturally upon the pigs, who were
generally recognised as being the cleverest of the animals. Pre−eminent among the pigs were two
young boars named Snowball and Napoleon, whom Mr. Jones was breeding up for sale. Napoleon
was a large, rather fierce−looking Berkshire boar, the only Berkshire on the farm, not much of a
talker, but with a reputation for getting his own way. Snowball was a more vivacious pig than
Napoleon, quicker in speech and more inventive, but was not considered to have the same depth of
character. All the other male pigs on the farm were porkers. The best known among them was a small
fat pig named Squealer, with very round cheeks, twinkling eyes, nimble movements, and a shrill
voice. He was a brilliant talker, and when he was arguing some difficult point he had a way of
skipping from side to side and whisking his tail which was somehow very persuasive. The others said
of Squealer that he could turn black into white.
These three had elaborated old Major's teachings into a complete system of thought, to which they
gave the name of Animalism. Several nights a week, after Mr. Jones was asleep, they held secret
meetings in the barn and expounded the principles of Animalism to the others. At the beginning they
met with much stupidity and apathy. Some of the animals talked of the duty of loyalty to Mr. Jones,
whom they referred to as "Master," or made elementary remarks such as "Mr. Jones feeds us. If he
were gone, we should starve to death." Others asked such questions as "Why should we care what
happens after we are dead?" or "If this Rebellion is to happen anyway, what difference does it make
whether we work for it or not?", and the pigs had great difficulty in making them see that this was
contrary to the spirit of Animalism. The stupidest questions of all were asked by Mollie, the white
mare. The very first question she asked Snowball was: "Will there still be sugar after the Rebellion? "
"No," said Snowball firmly. "We have no means of making sugar on this farm. Besides, you do not
need sugar. You will have all the oats and hay you want."
"And shall I still be allowed to wear ribbons in my mane?" asked Mollie.
"Comrade," said Snowball, "those ribbons that you are so devoted to are the badge of slavery. Can
you not understand that liberty is worth more than ribbons? "
