Chichikov set forth to inspect the town. Apparently the place
succeeded in satisfying him, and, to tell the truth, it was at least
up to the usual standard of our provincial capitals. Where the staring
yellow of stone edifices did not greet his eye he found himself
confronted with the more modest grey of wooden ones; which,
consisting, for the most part, of one or two storeys (added to the
range of attics which provincial architects love so well), looked
almost lost amid the expanses of street and intervening medleys of
broken or half-finished partition-walls. At other points evidence of
more life and movement was to be seen, and here the houses stood
crowded together and displayed dilapidated, rain-blurred signboards
whereon boots of cakes or pairs of blue breeches inscribed "Arshavski,
Tailor," and so forth, were depicted. Over a shop containing hats and
caps was written "Vassili Thedorov, Foreigner"; while, at another
spot, a signboard portrayed a billiard table and two players--the
latter clad in frockcoats of the kind usually affected by actors whose
part it is to enter the stage during the closing act of a piece, even
though, with arms sharply crooked and legs slightly bent, the said
billiard players were taking the most careful aim, but succeeding only
in making abortive strokes in the air. Each emporium of the sort had
written over it: "This is the best establishment of its kind in the
town." Also, al fresco in the streets there stood tables heaped with
nuts, soap, and gingerbread (the latter but little distinguishable
from the soap), and at an eating-house there was displayed the sign of
a plump fish transfixed with a gaff. But the sign most frequently to
be discerned was the insignia of the State, the double-headed eagle
(now replaced, in this connection, with the laconic inscription
"Dramshop"). As for the paving of the town, it was uniformly bad.

The gentleman peered also into the municipal gardens, which contained