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How they toiled and sweated to get the hay in! But their efforts were rewarded, for the harvest was an even bigger success than they had hoped.
Sometimes the work was hard; the implements had been designed for human beings and not for animals, and it was a great drawback that no animal was able to use any tool that involved standing on his hind legs. But the pigs were so clever that they could think of a way round every difficulty. As for the horses, they knew every inch of the field, and in fact understood the business of mowing and raking far better than Jones and his men had ever done. The pigs did not actually work, but directed and supervised the others. With their superior knowledge it was natural that they should assume the leadership. Boxer and Clover would harness themselves to the cutter or the horse-rake (no bits or reins were needed in these days, of course) and tramp steadily round and round the field with a pig walking behind and calling out “Gee up, comrade!” or “Whoa back, comrade!” as the case might be. And every animal down to the humblest worked at turning the hay and gathering it. Even the ducks and hens toiled to and fro all day in the sun, carrying tiny wisps of hay in their beaks. In the end they finished the harvest in two days’ less time than it had usually taken Jones and his men. Moreover, it was the biggest harvest that the farm had ever seen. There was no wastage whatever; the hens and ducks with their sharp eyes had gathered up the very last stalk. And not an animal on the farm had stolen so much as a mouthful.
All through that summer the work of the farm went like
clockwork. The animals were happy as they had never conceived it
possible to be. Every mouthful of food was an acute positive
pleasure, now that it was truly their own food, produced by
themselves and for themselves, not doled out to them by a grudging
master. With the worthless parasitical human beings gone, there was
more for everyone to eat. There was more leisure too, inexperienced
though the animals were. They met with many difficulties—for
instance, later in the year, when they harvested the corn, they had
to tread it out in the ancient style and blow away the chaff with
their breath, since the farm possessed no threshing
machine—but the pigs with their cleverness and Boxer with his
tremendous muscles always pulled them through. Boxer was the
admiration of everybody. He had been a hard worker even in
Jones’s time, but now he seemed more like three horses than
one; there were days when the entire work of the farm seemed to
rest on his mighty shoulders. From morning to night he was pushing
and pulling, always at the spot where the work was hardest. He had
made an arrangement with one of the cockerels to call him in the
mornings half an hour earlier than anyone else, and would put in
some volunteer labour at whatever seemed to be most needed, before
the regular day’s work (...)
(......)
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