Animal Farm

Chapter V

Chapter V

As winter drew on, Mollie became more and more troublesome. She was late
for work every morning and excused herself by saying that she had
overslept, and she complained of mysterious pains, although her appetite
was excellent. On every kind of pretext she would run away from work and
go to the drinking pool, where she would stand foolishly gazing at her own
reflection in the water. But there were also rumours of something more
serious. One day, as Mollie strolled blithely into the yard, flirting her
long tail and chewing at a stalk of hay, Clover took her aside.

"Mollie," she said, "I have something very serious to say to you. This
morning I saw you looking over the hedge that divides Animal Farm from
Foxwood. One of Mr. Pilkington's men was standing on the other side of the
hedge. And--I was a long way away, but I am almost certain I saw this--he
was talking to you and you were allowing him to stroke your nose. What
does that mean, Mollie?"

"He didn't! I wasn't! It isn't true!" cried Mollie, beginning to prance
about and paw the ground.

"Mollie! Look me in the face. Do you give me your word of honour that that
man was not stroking your nose?"

"It isn't true!" repeated Mollie, but she could not look Clover in the
face, and the next moment she took to her heels and galloped away into the
field.

A thought struck Clover. Without saying anything to the others, she went
to Mollie's stall and turned over the straw with her hoof. Hidden under
the straw was a little pile of lump sugar and several bunches of ribbon of
different colours.

Three days later Mollie disappeared. For some weeks nothing was known of
her whereabouts, then the pigeons reported that they had seen her on the
other side of Willingdon. She was between the shafts of a smart dogcart
painted red and black, which was standing outside a public-house. A fat
red-faced man in check breeches and gaiters, who looked like a publican,
was stroking her nose and feeding her with sugar. Her coat was newly
clipped and she wore a scarlet ribbon round her forelock. She appeared to
be enjoying herself, so the pigeons said. None of the animals ever
mentioned Mollie again.

In January there came bitterly hard weather. The earth was like iron, and
nothing could be done in the fields. Many meetings were held in the big
barn, and the pigs occupied themselves with planning out the work of the
coming season. It had come to be accepted that the pigs, who were
manifestly cleverer than the other animals, should decide all questions of
farm policy, though their decisions had to be ratified by a majority vote.
This arrangement would have worked well enough if it had not been for the
disputes between Snowball and Napoleon. These two disagreed at every point
where disagreement was possible. If one of them suggested sowing a bigger
acreage with barley, the other was certain to demand a bigger acreage of
oats, and if one of them said that such and such a field was just right
for cabbages, the other would declare that it was useless for anything
except roots. Each had his own following, and there were some violent
debates. At the Meetings Snowball often won over the majority by his
brilliant speeches, but Napoleon was better at canvassing support for
himself in between times. He was especially successful with the sheep. Of
late the sheep had taken to bleating "Four legs good, two legs bad" both
in and out of season, and they often interrupted the Meeting with this. It
was noticed that they were especially liable to break into "Four legs
good, two legs bad" at crucial moments in Snowball's speeches. Snowball
had made a close study of some back numbers of the 'Farmer and
Stockbreeder' which he had found in the farmhouse, and was full of plans
for innovations and improvements. He talked learnedly about field drains,
silage, and basic slag, and had worked out a complicated scheme for all
the animals to drop their dung directly in the fields, at a different spot
every day, to save the labour of cartage. Napoleon produced no schemes of
his own, but said quietly that Snowball's would come to nothing, and
seemed to be biding his time. But of all their controversies, none was so
bitter as the one that took place over the windmill.