'Confound him,' thought Tchitchikov, turning over on the other side, 'he won't let me sleep.'
'Make me a haggis and put a piece of ice in the middle, so that it may swell up properly. And let the garnishing for the sturgeon be rich. Garnish it with crayfish and little fried fish, with a stuffing of little smelts, add fine mince, horse radish and mushrooms and turnips, and carrots and beans, and is there any other root?'
'I might put in kohlrabi and beetroot cut in stars,' said the cook.
'Yes, put in kohlrabi, and beetroot, and I'll tell you what garnish to serve with the roast …'
'I shall never get to sleep,' said Tchitchikov. Turning over on the other side, he buried his head in the pillow and pulled the quilt up over it, that he might hear nothing, but through the quilt he heard unceasingly: 'And roast it well,' and 'Bake it thoroughly.' He fell asleep over a turkey.
Next day the guests over-ate themselves to such a degree, that Platonov could not ride home; his horse was taken back by one of Pyetuh's stable-boys. They got into the carriage: Platonov's dog Yarb followed the carriage lazily, he too had over-eaten himself.
'No, it is really too much,' said Tchitchikov, as soon as the carriage had driven out of the yard. 'It's positively piggish. Aren't you uncomfortable, Platon Mihailovitch? The carriage
