George Orville, Animal Farm, Chapter 1

Animal rallies

Mr. Jones of Manor Farm locked the chicken coop for the night, but he drank so much that he forgot to close the door. He staggered through the yard, the aperture of the lantern in his hand swinging from side to side with it, and he went to the back door, stepped off his boots, and poured a beer from the barrel between the dishes, the last of the day, and then he climbed into bed, and Mrs. Jones had already begun to snore.

As soon as the bedroom lights went out, the various stables of the farm came alive. The news of the day had long since spread, saying that the old and the young were one by one. The medium-sized white boar that won the prize was one by one. I had a strange dream the night before and wanted to communicate with the other animals. Everyone made up their minds, and when Mr. Jones left and everyone was safe, they gathered at the barn. The old major (as he was called, though his name was "Wellington Beauty" when he first exhibited) was so prestigious on the farm that the animals preferred to sleep an hour less than to hear what he wanted to say.

At one end of the great barn there was a slightly raised place, resembling a pulpit, where the old major had been lying peacefully on his straw bed, with an oil lamp hanging from the beam above his head. He was 12 years old and had recently begun to bless, but still looked dignified and noble. Although he has always kept the pair of tusks, his appearance is still smart and charitable. Soon, the animals arrived and settled comfortably to their liking. The first to arrive were the three dogs, one by one, Bluebell, Jesse and Pingcher; it was actually pigs, and they quickly took their seats in the haystack in front of the pulpit. The hen perched on the windowsill, the pigeon flapped its wings and landed on the rafters, and the sheep and cows lay behind the pigs and began to chew ruminants. Two cart-pulling horses one by one. Boxers and alfalfa appeared one by one, pacing slowly, carefully placing their big furry hooves, afraid of stepping on small animals covered by grass. Alfalfa is a sturdy middle-aged mare who, after giving birth to her fourth child, will never find the bodybuilding shape it was when she was younger. The boxer was huge, nearly six feet tall, and his strength was equal to two ordinary horses. He had a white stripe on his nose that made him look a little ridiculous, in fact he was not the most intelligent, but his strong personality and super physical strength made him win the respect of everyone. Behind the horses came Murir the white goat and Benjamin the donkey. Benjamin had the oldest temper and the worst temper on the farm. He rarely spoke, and a mouth was nothing short of harsh and critical bad words, for example, he would say that God gave him a tail to let him catch flies, but he would rather not have a tail, and there are no flies in this world. Among the farm animals was the only one who never smiled, to ask him why he would say that he didn't find anything funny. But he was devoted to the boxer, though he never admitted it publicly; the two of them often spent weekends together in the small pasture in front of the orchard, grazing side by side, but neither of them spoke.

The two horses had just laid down when they saw a nest of ladyless ducks lined up into the barn, swaying and whimpering weakly, looking for a place that would not be stepped on. Alfalfa used his front legs to enclose them with a barrier, and the ducks snuggled together under his protection and soon fell asleep. Jasmine, who was pulling the carriage for Mr. Jones, was almost on the spot, a beautiful white mare with no brains, and she walked in with a twist, still chewing a piece of sugar in her mouth. He found a place in the front, and as soon as he sat down, he began to take care of his snow-white mane, trying to show off the red ribbon tied to it, and the last one to arrive was the old cat, who looked around as usual, looking for the warmest place, and finally squeezed himself between the boxer and the alfalfa. He grunted and took a nap, and the major said nothing, and he didn't listen to a word.

Except for Moses, all the animals arrived. Moses was a tamed crow, always sleeping on a perch at the back door, and when the Major saw that everyone was already in their seats, Zheng held his breath and waited for him to speak, so he cleared his throat and said:

"Comrades, I think you have all heard that I had a strange dream last night, and I will talk about this dream in a moment, and I want to say something else first. Comrades, I think that the time I will spend with you will not be too long, before I die I feel that I have the responsibility to pass on to you some of the insights I have accumulated over the years, my time in this world is not short, when I lie alone in the pigsty, I have a lot of time to think, I think I can say that my understanding of the true meaning of life is no less than any animal in this world, and this is what I want to say to you. ”

"Comrades, what kind of life are we living?" Let's face up to the reality that our lives are miserable, laborious, and short-lived. We are born and have only enough to eat, and those of us who can do the hard work have to work until the last breath remains; once it is useless, we are brutally slaughtered. In England, animals over the age of one can no longer experience happiness and leisure, the animals of England have no freedom to speak of, and the life of animals is a life of suffering, a life of enslavement, which is the simple fact that we are faced. ”

"But is this the law of nature? Is it all because our land is too barren to provide a comfortable and decent life for His people? No, comrades, absolutely not! England's fertile land, pleasant climate, and abundant produce can provide plenty of food for everyone, even if there are several times more animals than it does now. The farm we are on alone can feed twelve horses, twenty cows, and hundreds of sheep. And everyone can live comfortably and decently, which is definitely not what we can imagine now, so why are we still continuing this miserable life? For almost all the fruits of our labour have been stolen by mankind, comrades, and this is the answer to all the questions, summing up mankind in one simple word, man is our only real enemy, and as long as man disappears from our field of vision, then all the causes of evil overwork will be completely eradicated.

"Humans are the only creatures that consume and do not produce, they do not produce milk or eggs, and they cannot pull the plough and do not run as fast as rabbits. But man became the ruler of all the animals, they let the animals work, but the food they got was only a little bit of the animals, barely let the animals starve, the rest was taken for themselves, we worked hard to cultivate the land, the manure was used to fertilize, and each of us had nothing but a pair of skin bags. What about the milk that should have been used to feed your calves to thrive? They all ran down the throats of our enemies, drop by drop. What about you hens, how many eggs did you lay last year? How many hatched into chicks? The rest were sold in the market, into the pockets of Jones and his friends, and you, Alfalfa, the 4 ponies you gave birth to, who should have been your old reliance and comfort. But they were all sold at the age of one, and you never saw them again, and what was in return for your 4 pregnancy deliveries and a day of field labor, except for a little bit of poor fodder and a stable?

"Even if we just live such a miserable life, our lives are not guaranteed." Personally, I have nothing to complain about, because I am relatively lucky, I lived for 12 years, gave birth to more than 400 piglets, and the pig's life will not be like this. But no animal can finally survive the cruel butcher's knife, the fat piglets sitting in front of me, and within a year you will all have to scream and die on the meat case, and none of us will be able to escape this terrible disaster. Cows, hens, sheep, no exceptions, even horses and dogs. You, the boxer, when the muscular muscles in your body are no longer strong, Jones will sell you to someone who specializes in slaughtering horses, and he will slit your throat and boil you up to feed the hounds. As for the dogs, when they were so old that they ran out of teeth, Jones would put a brick around their necks and throw them into a nearby pond and drown.

"Well comrades, isn't all this clear enough? All the suffering in our lives comes from the tyranny of humanity. Only by overthrowing humanity can we regain the fruits of our own labor, and we will become rich and free overnight, so what do we have to do? We must work day and night to overthrow humanity with all our hearts and minds! To rebel against the comrades, this is the message I want to convey to you, I do not know when this rebellion will break out, perhaps in a week, or in 100 years, but one thing I am sure of will undoubtedly come to us one by one, just as I can really see the straw under my feet, sooner or later justice will come to us, open your eyes in your lifetime, comrades, and please convey my words to your descendants, so that our children and grandchildren will continue this struggle. Until victory is achieved. ”

"Comrades, remember that the determination cannot be shaken. Don't be swayed by any other opinion, don't listen to rumors, don't believe that humans and animals have common interests, don't believe that as long as humans prosper, animals will prosper. That is all lies, human beings will only seek their own interests, let us all animals unite and work together in this struggle, all human beings are enemies, all animals are compatriots. ”

Just then there was an uproar in the barn, and it turned out that just as the major was making a generous statement, four large rats also came out of the hole and sat on the ground with their front legs to listen to him. The sharp-eyed dogs found them first, and if the rats had not been fast on their legs and feet, they would have fled back to the cave in time, fearing that they would have died long ago. The Major stretched out his front hooves, signaling for everyone to be quiet.

"Comrades," he said, "there is now a question that must be solved, of animals like rats and hares, who are our friends or enemies, let us vote, I will raise the question at the meeting, are rats our compatriots?" ”

The vote was held immediately, and the vast majority of the votes indicated that rats should be considered compatriots. There were only 4 no votes, one for the old cat and three dogs, and later the animals found that the old cat not only voted against it, but also voted in favor, and the major continued:

"I will not say anything more, I just want to repeat that we must always remember our duty, that is, to be at odds with human beings and all their habits of life, that any two-legged creature is our enemy, that all four-legged or winged beings are friends, and that we must also remember that while fighting against man, we must never learn from human behavior, and even if one day we defeat man, we cannot inherit their vices, and animals cannot live in human houses. You can't sleep in bed, you can't get dressed, drink, smoke, or get involved in money, engage in trade, all human habits are sinful. The most important point is that no animal can bully its kind, the big strong, the little skinny, the clever, the simple-minded, are our brothers. No animal can mutilate other animals, and all animals are equal. ”

"Comrades, let me tell you about the dream I had last night, and it is difficult for me to describe to you the situation in the dream. It was a dream about the earth after the demise of mankind, and he evoked my memories of a past that was about to be forgotten. Many years ago, when I was young, my mother and other sows used to hum an old song, but they only remembered the first few words of the song, and only hummed a score. I was familiar with this tone since I was a child, but it was also a long time ago in my memory. But last night this song actually appeared in my dream again. What's even more amazing is that there are all the lyrics, which I'm sure the animals sang a long time ago, and lost it generations ago. Comrades, I will sing this song for you now. I'm old and my voice is hoarse, but after I teach you, you can sing in your own beautiful voice. The song is called "The Livestock of England."

The old major cleared his throat and sang. As he said, his voice was indeed a little hoarse, but he still sang very well. The song is exciting, with the style of the tune somewhere between Clemente and the mexican song "Cockroach Song", and the lyrics are sung like this:

Livestock in England and Ireland

livestock around the world,

Come on, happy news I bring.

Listen to me paint a better future.

Sooner or later, this day will come,

The tyranny of mankind will be overthrown,

The fertile lands of England,

There will be only the footprints of livestock.

We no longer wear iron rings on our noses,

There is no longer a shackle on the back,

Chews and boot thorns are no longer useful,

The brutal whip will never be waved again.

Property is unimaginably rich,

Wheat, barley, oats, and licorice,

Alfalfa, broad beans, and beets,

Then it will be up to us to collect them.

On the day we are set free,

The land of England is bright,

The river is crystal clear,

The wind is fresh.

The coming of this day requires us to strive for it,

Even if we will die before victory;

Cows, horses, geese and turkeys...

All should fight for freedom.

livestock in England and Ireland,

Listen to me paint a better future,

And spread the word.

The song made the animals boil with blood and excitement. The major didn't finish singing it all, and everyone began to hum. Even the most unqualified animals found the tune and memorized part of the lyrics; the smarter ones, like pigs and dogs, memorized the whole song in minutes. After several auditions, the animals from the farm sang "The Livestock of England" in unison, and the loud song resounded over the farm. Cows moo, dogs, sheep, horses, ducks. Everyone loved the song and sang it 5 times in a row, each time very successful. If it hadn't been interrupted, they might have been interested in singing all night.

Unfortunately, the song woke Up Mr. Jones, who jumped out of bed for fear that a fox had slipped into the farm. He held up the shotgun that was always in the corner of his bedroom and pulled the trigger into the darkness. With a gunshot, the shrapnel was deeply embedded in the walls of the barn. The meeting had to end in a hurry.