1 He was closeted there for hours at a time.
2 They were unnecessary, he said, and wasted time.
3 By the time he had finished speaking, there was no doubt as to which way the vote would go.
4 But at this moment the three cows, who had seemed uneasy for some time past, set up a loud lowing.
5 One of them all but closed his jaws on Snowball's tail, but Snowball whisked it free just in time.
6 In the end they finished the harvest in two days' less time than it had usually taken Jones and his men.
7 When asked whether he was not happier now that Jones was gone, he would say only "Donkeys live a long time."
8 They dashed straight for Snowball, who only sprang from his place just in time to escape their snapping jaws.
9 Napoleon produced no schemes of his own, but said quietly that Snowball's would come to nothing, and seemed to be biding his time.
10 Its owner, Mr. Pilkington, was an easy-going gentleman farmer who spent most of his time in fishing or hunting according to the season.
11 He did his work in the same slow obstinate way as he had done it in Jones's time, never shirking and never volunteering for extra work either.
12 For whole days at a time he would lounge in his Windsor chair in the kitchen, reading the newspapers, drinking, and occasionally feeding Moses on crusts of bread soaked in beer.
13 Napoleon, on the other hand, argued that the great need of the moment was to increase food production, and that if they wasted time on the windmill they would all starve to death.
14 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.
15 I have had a long life, I have had much time for thought as I lay alone in my stall, and I think I may say that I understand the nature of life on this earth as well as any animal now living.
16 When time passed and the animals had evidently not starved to death, Frederick and Pilkington changed their tune and began to talk of the terrible wickedness that now flourished on Animal Farm.
17 Most of this time Mr. Jones had spent sitting in the taproom of the Red Lion at Willingdon, complaining to anyone who would listen of the monstrous injustice he had suffered in being turned out of his property by a pack of good-for-nothing animals.
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