Pliushkin forgave her, and allowed the little boy to play with a button which was lying on the table, but he gave her no money. On another occasion, Alexandra Stepanovna came with her two children, and brought her father an Easter-cake to eat with his tea, and also a new dressing gown; for the one which he was wearing was in such a state that it made her both confused and ashamed to look at it. Pliushkin caressed both of his grandchildren, and placing them, one on his right knee and the other on his left, he trotted them exactly as though they had been riding on horses; he also accepted the Easter-cake and the dressing-gown, but he gave his daughter absolutely nothing, whereupon Alexandra Stepanovna took her departure.

But we must return to our hero. Pliushkin had been standing in front of him for several minutes without uttering a word; and Tchitchikoff was still utterly incapable of beginning the conversation, distracted as he was by the sight of the master himself, as well as by all that was in the room. For a long time he could not think how to explain the reason of his visit. He was on the point of expressing himself to the effect that, having heard of Pliushkin as a public benefactor, he had considered it his duty to pay him a personal tribute of respect; but he felt that that would be too much. On casting one more stealthy glance on all that was in the room, he became conscious that the expression public benefactor might be successfully replaced by the words economy and order: so, having reconstructed his sentence on that pattern, he said, that, having heard of his economy and rare skill in managing his estate, he had regarded it as his duty to make his acquaintance and offer his respects in person. He certainly might have alleged some other and better reason, but none occurred to him.

To this, Pliushkin mumbled some reply between his lips, for he had no teeth. What it was exactly is not known, but in all probability the sense was a follows: “May the deuce take you and your respects!” However, since hospitality is in such repute all over Russia that even a miser cannot ignore it laws, he added a little more distinctly, “I beg you most humbly to take a seat. I have not been in the habit of receiving guests for a long time, and I must confess that I perceive but very little use in them. A strange custom has sprung up, of going about to visit people’s estates to the neglect of domestic affairs. However, I can’t offer you anything, for I dined long ago: and my kitchen is very mean and poor, and the chimneys are in a state of utter ruin; if you try to heat the stove, you will certainly set the house on fire.”

“So that’t the kind of man he is!” said Tchitchikoff to himself. “It’s lucky that I dined at Sobakevitch’s, and tucked into that breast of mutton.”

“And it is a most unfortunate circumstance, but there is hardly a wisp of hay for your horses in the whole establishment,” proceeded Pliushkin. “Yes, and where is there any to be had? The farm is small and barren: the peasants are lazy; they are not fond of working; they only think of getting away to the pot- house. As you know, people are thrown on the world in their old age.”

“But I was told,” said Tchitchikoff modestly, “that you had over a thousand souls.”

“Why! who said that? My good fellow, you should have spit in the eye of the person who told you that! He was a jester: he evidently wanted to make fun of you. That is the way people talk; but for the last three years a cursed fever has been killing off my serfs in swarms.”

“You don’t say so! And have many really died?” exclaimed Tchitchikoff sympathetically.

“Yes; a great many have been carried off.”

“Will you permit me to inquire the number?”

“Fully eighty souls.”

“No, really?”

“I am not in the habit of lying, my good fellow.”