Always they are to be seen sitting in the same place, and holding their heads at exactly the same angle, so that one comes within an ace of mistaking them for furniture, and thinks to oneself that never since the day of their birth can they have spoken a single word.
"My dear," said Sobakevitch, "the cabbage soup is excellent." With that he finished his portion, and helped himself to a generous measure of niania [25]--the dish which follows shtchi and consists of a sheep's stomach stuffed with black porridge, brains, and other things.

"What niania this is!" he added to Chichikov.

"Never would you get such stuff in a town, where one is given the devil knows what." "Nevertheless the Governor keeps a fair table," said Chichikov.
"Yes, but do you know what all the stuff is MADE OF ?" retorted Sobakevitch.

"If you DID know you would never touch it." "Of course I am not in a position to say how it is prepared, but at least the pork cutlets and the boiled fish seemed excellent." "Ah, it might have been thought so; yet I know the way in which such things are bought in the market-place.

They are bought by some rascal of a cook whom a Frenchman has taught how to skin a tomcat and then serve it up as hare." "Ugh! What horrible things you say!" put in Madame.
"Well, my dear, that is how things are done, and it is no fault of mine that it is so.