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"Then to find things wearisome!" exclaimed Chichikov. "It passes my comprehension." And he shrugged his shoulders. "Well, we will soon put weariness to flight," interrupted the host. "Aleksasha, do you run helter-skelter to the kitchen, and there tell the cook to serve the fish pasties. Yes, and where have that gawk of an Emelian and that thief of an Antoshka got to?
And, taking Chichikov by the arm, the host conducted him within, where they were met by a couple of youths. "Let me introduce my two sons, home for their holidays from the Gymnasium ," said Pietukh. "Nikolasha, come and entertain our good visitor, while you, Aleksasha, follow me." And with that the host disappeared.
"Here comes Platon Mikhalitch, father!" exclaimed Aleksasha, who had been peeping out of the window. "Yes, and on a grey horse," added his brother. "Who is Platon Mikhalitch?" inquired Chichikov. "A neighbour of ours, and an excellent fellow." The next moment Platon Mikhalitch himself entered the room, accompanied by a sporting dog named Yarb. He was a tall, handsome man, with extremely red hair.
Instead of galloping over the countryside on frisky cobs, Nikolasha and Aleksasha were engaged in dreaming of Moscow, with its confectioners' shops and the theatres of which a cadet, newly arrived on a visit from the capital, had just been telling them; while their father had his mind full of how best to stuff his guests with yet more food, and Platon was given up to yawning.
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