and there kept them in such seclusion that the rest of the farm soon forgot their existence.
The mystery of where the milk went to was soon cleared up. It was mixed every day into the pigs’ mash.
The early apples were now ripening, and the grass of the orchard was littered with windfalls.
The animals had assumed as a matter of course that these would be shared out equally;
one day, however, the order went forth that all the windfalls were to be collected and brought to the harness-room for the use of the pigs.
At this some of the other animals murmured, but it was no use.
All the pigs were in full agreement on this point, even Snowball and Napoleon.
Squealer was sent to make the necessary explanations to the others.
“Comrades!” he cried. “You do not imagine, I hope, that we pigs are doing this in a spirit of selfishness and privilege?
Many of us actually dislike milk and apples. I dislike them myself.
Our sole object in taking these things is to preserve our health.
Milk and apples (this has been proved by Science, comrades) contain substances absolutely necessary to the well-being of a pig.
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