'Now, comrades', cried Snowball, 'throwing down the paint−brush, 'to the hay field! Let us make it a point of honor to get in the harvest more quickly than Jones and his men could do.'
Battle of Cowshed
Comrades, you have heard already about the strange dream that I had last night. But I will come to the dream later. I have something else to say first. I do not think, comrades, that I shall be with you for many months longer, and before I, die I feel it my duty to pass on to you such wisdom as I have acquired.
At this there was a terrible baying sound outside, and nine enormous dogs wearing brass−studded collars came bounding into the barn. They dashed straight for Snowball, who only sprang from his place just in time to escape their snapping jaws. Snowball was racing across the long pasture that led to the road. He was running as only a pig can run, but the dogs were close on his heels. Suddenly he slipped and it seemed certain that they had him. Then he was up again, running faster than ever, then the dogs were gaining on him again... Then he put on an extra spurt and, with a few inches to spare, slipped through a hole in the hedge and was seen no more.
On the third Sunday after Snowball's expulsion, the animals were somewhat surprised to hear Napoleon announce that the windmill was to be built after all.
Comrades, do you know who is responsible for this? Do you know the enemy who has come in the night and overthrown our windmill? SNOWBALL!