At last the day came when Snowball’s plans were completed. At the meeting on the following Sunday the question of whether or not to begin work on the windmill was to be put to the vote. When the animals had assembled in the big barn，Snowball stood up and， though occasionally interrupted by bleating from the sheep，set forth his reasons for advocating the building of the windmill.  Then Napoleon stood up to reply.  He said very quietly that the windmill was nonsense and he advised nobody to avoid for it，and promptly sat down again；he had spoken for barely thirty seconds，and seemed almost indifferent as to the effect he produced.  As this Snowball Sprang to his feet，and shouting down the sheep，who had begun bleating again，broke into a passionat appeal in favour of the windmill.  Until now the animals had been about equally divided in their sympathies，but in a moment Snowball’s eloquence had carried them away. In growing sentence he painted a picture of Animal Farm as it might be when sordid labour was lifted from the animals' backs.  His imagination had now run far beyond chaff-cutters and turnip-slicers.  Electricity，he said，could operate threshing machines，ploughs， harrows，rollers，and reapers and binders，besides supplying every stall with its own electric light，hot and cold water，and an electric heater.  By the time he had finished speaking，there was no doubt as to which way the vote would go.  But just at this moment Napoleon stood up and，casting a peculiar sidelong look at Snowball，uttered high-pitched whimper of a kind no one had ever heard him at utter before.