More often than not, the animals starved through the night. Much of the foods gained were reserved for the pigs, who were the majority; the working class was to survive upon whatever they could find on the land, in the trees, and in the trash. There was a familiar, malevolent twinkle in his eyes that resembled that of his father's. He scrutinized all the animals. "You lot hear?" he hollered again. All the animals nodded, not at all bothered by this recent display of violence. Scenes as such were repeated so often on the farm that it no longer bothered the animals. As dismal as their situation was, the animals never gave up hope. They worked like slaves, harder and harder each day. They still dreamed of Sugarcandy Mountain, where it was Sunday every day, and sugar lumps and clovers grew wild. In the quiet farmhouse, Old Benjamin sat, gazing at a wall that was covered with a badly drawn picture of Squealer Junior. He remembered clearly that once there had been seven commandments there, written in white paint, to insure an animal's equality.Though Benjamin believed that the Rebellion made no difference; he couldn't help but ponder. What would it be like to be freed from this miserable
More often than not, the animals starved through the night. Much of the foods gained were reserved for the pigs, who were the majority; the working class was to survive upon whatever they could find on the land, in the trees, and in the trash. There was a familiar, malevolent twinkle in his eyes that resembled that of his father's. He scrutinized all the animals. "You lot hear?" he hollered again. All the animals nodded, not at all bothered by this recent display of violence. Scenes as such were repeated so often on the farm that it no longer bothered the animals. As dismal as their situation was, the animals never gave up hope. They worked like slaves, harder and harder each day. They still dreamed of Sugarcandy Mountain, where it was Sunday every day, and sugar lumps and clovers grew wild. In the quiet farmhouse, Old Benjamin sat, gazing at a wall that was covered with a badly drawn picture of Squealer Junior. He remembered clearly that once there had been seven commandments there, written in white paint, to insure an animal's equality.Though Benjamin believed that the Rebellion made no difference; he couldn't help but ponder. What would it be like to be freed from this miserable