in question, the spectacle of the untidiness
within struck him almost with amazement. It would seem that the floor
was never washed, and that the room was used as a receptacle for every
conceivable kind of furniture. On a table stood a ragged chair, with,
beside it, a clock minus a pendulum and covered all over with cobwebs.
Against a wall leant a cupboard, full of old silver, glassware, and
china. On a writing table, inlaid with mother-of-pearl which, in places,
had broken away and left behind it a number of yellow grooves (stuffed
with putty), lay a pile of finely written manuscript, an overturned
marble press (turning green), an ancient book in a leather cover with
red edges, a lemon dried and shrunken to the dimensions of a hazelnut,
the broken arm of a chair, a tumbler containing the dregs of some liquid
and three flies (the whole covered over with a sheet of notepaper), a
pile of rags, two ink-encrusted pens, and a yellow toothpick with which
the master of the house had picked his teeth (apparently) at least
before the coming of the French to Moscow. As for the walls, they were
hung with a medley of pictures. Among the latter was a long engraving of
a battle scene, wherein soldiers in three-cornered hats were brandishing
huge drums and slender lances. It lacked a glass, and was set in a frame
ornamented with bronze fretwork and bronze corner rings. Beside it hung
a huge, grimy oil painting representative of some flowers and fruit,
half a water melon, a boar's head, and the pendent form of a dead
wild duck. Attached to the ceiling there was a chandelier in a holland
covering--the covering so dusty as closely to resemble a huge cocoon
enclosing a caterpillar. Lastly, in one corner of the room lay a pile
of articles which had evidently been adjudged unworthy of a place on the
table. Yet what the pile consisted of it would have been difficult to
say, seeing that the dust on the same was so thick that any hand which
touched it would have at once resembled a glove. Prominently protruding
from the pile was the shaft of a wooden spade and the antiquated sole
of a shoe. Never would one have supposed that a living creature had
tenanted the room, were it not that the presence of such a creature was
betrayed by the spectacle of an old nightcap resting on the table.

Whilst Chichikov was gazing at this extraordinary mess, a side door
opened and there entered the housekeeper who had met him near the
outbuildings. But now Chichi