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They tiptoed up to the house, and such animals as were tall enough peered in at the dining-room window.

There, round the long table, sat half a dozen farmers and half a dozen of the more eminent pigs, Napoleon himself occupying the seat of honour at the head of the table.

The pigs appeared completely at ease in their chairs.

The company had been enjoying a game of cards but had broken off for the moment, evidently in order to drink a toast.

A large jug was circulating, and the mugs were being refilled with beer.

No one noticed the wondering faces of the animals that gazed in at the window.

Mr. Pilkington, of Foxwood, had stood up, his mug in his hand. In a moment, he said, he would ask the present company to drink a toast. But before doing so, there were a few words that he felt it incumbent upon him to say.

It was a source of great satisfaction to him, he said - and, he was sure, to all others present - to feel that a long period of mistrust and misunderstanding had now come to an end.

There had been a time - not that he, or any of the present company, had shared such sentiments - but there had been a time when the respected proprietors of Animal Farm had been regarded, he would not say with hostility, but perhaps with a certain measure of misgiving, by their human neighbours.

Unfortunate incidents had occurred, mistaken ideas had been current.

It had been felt that the existence of a farm owned and operated by pigs was somehow abnormal and was liable to have an unsettling effect in the neighbourhood.

Too many farmers had assumed, without due enquiry, that on such a farm a spirit of licence and indiscipline would prevail.

They had been nervous about the effects upon their own animals, or even upon their human employees.

But all such doubts were now dispelled.

Today he and his friends had visited Animal Farm and inspected every inch of it with their own eyes, and what did they find? Not only the most up-to-date methods, but a discipline and an orderliness which should be an example to all farmers everywhere.

He believed that he was right in saying that the lower animals on Animal Farm did more work and received less food than any animals in the county.

Indeed, he and his fellow-visitors today had observed many features which they intended to introduce on their own farms immediately.

He would end his remarks, he said, by emphasising once again the friendly feelings that subsisted, and ought to subsist, between Animal Farm and its neighbours.

Between pigs and human beings there was not, and there need not be, any clash of interests whatever.

Their struggles and their difficulties were one.

Was not the labour problem the same everywhere? Here it became apparent that Mr. Pilkington was about to spring some carefully prepared witticism on the company, but for a moment he was too overcome by amusement to be able to utter it.

After much choking, during which his various chins turned purple, he managed to get it out: "If you have your lower animals to contend with," he said, "we have our lower classes!"

This BON MOT set the table in a roar; and Mr. Pilkington once again congratulated the pigs on the low rations, the long working hours, and the general absence of pampering which he had observed on Animal Farm.

And now, he said finally, he would ask the company to rise to their feet and make certain that their glasses were full. "Gentlemen," concluded Mr. Pilkington, "gentlemen, I give you a toast: To the prosperity of Animal Farm!"

There was enthusiastic cheering and stamping of feet.

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