The goldsmith naturally wanted to take the measurements of our fingers, but this Uncle John would not hear of; the rings were to be exact copies, and an exact copy must be the same size as the original.

You can imagine the result; my ring was so loose that I couldn't keep it on my finger, and Uncle John's was so tight that, though he did manage to get it on, he was never able to get it off again.

And it was only the circumstance that his left hand was decidedly smaller than his right that made it possible for him to wear it at all." "So you never wore your copy ?" "No.

I wanted to have it altered to make it fit, but he objected strongly; so I put it away, and have it in a box still." "He must have been an extraordinarily pig-headed old fellow," I remarked.
"Yes; he was very tenacious.

He annoyed my father a good deal, too, by making unnecessary alterations in the house in Queen Square when he fitted up his museum.