“Never mind,” he replied. “I can eat anything.”
“But why not cook him some pork and peas, or a beef-steak?” asked Oblomov.
“I did go to the butcher’s for a beefsteak, but there was not a single morsel of good beef left. However, I have made Monsieur Alexiev a cherry compote instead. I know he likes that.” The truth was that cherry compote was not bad for Oblomov; wherefore the complacent Alexiev had no choice but both to eat it and to like it.
After dinner no power on earth could prevent Oblomov from assuming a recumbent position; so, to obviate his going to sleep, the landlady was accustomed to place beside him his coffee, and then to inspire, her children to play games on the floor, so that, willy-nilly, Oblomov should be forced to join in their sport. Presently she withdrew to the kitchen to see if the coffee was yet ready, and, meanwhile, the children’s clatter died away. Almost at once a gentle snore arose in the room—then a louder one—then one louder still; and when Agafia Matvievna returned with the steaming coffee-pot she encountered such a volume of snoring as would have done credit to a post-house.
Angrily she shook her head at Alexiev.
“It is not my fault,” he said deprecatingly. “I tried to stir up the children, but they would not listen to me.”
Swiftly depositing the coffee-pot upon the table, she caught up little Andriusha from the floor, and gently seated him upon the sofa by Oblomov’s side; whereupon the child wriggled towards him, climbed his form until he had reached his face, and grasped him firmly by the nose.
“Hi! Hullo I Who is that?” cried Oblomov uneasily as he opened his eyes.
“You had gone to sleep, so Andriusha climbed on to the sofa and awoke you,” replied the landlady kindly.
“I had gone to sleep, indeed?” retorted Oblomov, laying his arm around the little one. “Do you think I did not hear him creeping along on all fours? Why, I hear everything. To think of the little rascal catching me by the nose! I’ll give it him! But there, there.” Tenderly embracing the child, he deposited him on the floor again, and heaved a profound sigh. “Tell us the news, Ivan Alexiev,” he said.