"The marshal, a Count Rostov, hasn't sent half his contingent.

He came to town and wanted to invite me to dinner--I gave him a pretty dinner!... And there, look at this....

Well, my boy," the old prince went on, addressing his son and patting Pierre on the shoulder.

" A fine fellow--your friend--I like him! He stirs me up.

Another says clever things and one doesn't care to listen, but this one talks rubbish yet stirs an old fellow up.