1 Comrade Snowball will lead the way.
2 But the pigs were so clever that they could think of a way round every difficulty.
3 Now that Snowball was out of the way, the plan could go forward without his interference.
4 A little way down the pasture there was a knoll that commanded a view of most of the farm.
5 By the time he had finished speaking, there was no doubt as to which way the vote would go.
6 It had been agreed that they should all meet in the big barn as soon as Mr. Jones was safely out of the way.
7 It was noticed that they wagged their tails to him in the same way as the other dogs had been used to do to Mr. Jones.
8 Napoleon sent for pots of black and white paint and led the way down to the five-barred gate that gave on to the main road.
9 For a moment there was great alarm; it was feared that the men might have harmed her in some way, or even carried her off with them.
10 And--I was a long way away, but I am almost certain I saw this--he was talking to you and you were allowing him to stroke your nose.
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 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.
13 Napoleon was a large, rather fierce-looking Berkshire boar, the only Berkshire on the farm, not much of a talker, but with a reputation for getting his own way.
14 Mrs. Jones looked out of the bedroom window, saw what was happening, hurriedly flung a few possessions into a carpet bag, and slipped out of the farm by another way.
15 He was a brilliant talker, and when he was arguing some difficult point he had a way of skipping from side to side and whisking his tail which was somehow very persuasive.
16 And so within five minutes of their invasion they were in ignominious retreat by the same way as they had come, with a flock of geese hissing after them and pecking at their calves all the way.
17 With the ring of light from his lantern dancing from side to side, he lurched across the yard, kicked off his boots at the back door, drew himself a last glass of beer from the barrel in the scullery, and made his way up to bed, where Mrs. Jones was already snoring.
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