He had been a hard worker even in Jones's time, but now he seemed more like three horses than one; there were days when the entire work of the farm seemed to rest on his mighty shoulders.
From morning to night he was pushing and pulling, always at the spot where the work was hardest.
He had made an arrangement with one of the cockerels to call him in the mornings half an hour earlier than anyone else, and would put in some volunteer labour at whatever seemed to be most needed, before the regular day's work began.
His answer to every problem, every setback, was "I will work harder!"- which he had adopted as his personal motto.
But everyone worked according to his capacity.
The hens and ducks, for instance, saved five bushels of corn at the harvest by gathering up the stray grains.
Nobody stole, nobody grumbled over his rations, the quarrelling and biting and jealousy which had been normal features of life in the old days had almost disappeared.
Nobody shirked - or almost nobody.
Mollie, it was true, was not good at getting up in the mornings, and had a way of leaving work early on the ground that there was a stone in her hoof.
And the behaviour of the cat was somewhat peculiar.