The amateur looks at the instrument with great earnestness for a moment or two, then observes: "You will have, I suppose, to take it all to pieces to do that kind of repair, eh?"
"Oh no," replied the chief, "we shall close that up without undoing any part of it except taking the strings and sound-post away." At this moment he has inserted the post-setter and pushed the post a little, which proceeding causes the back to open wider, the mouth of the owner opening widely also, accompanied by an increase in the general appearance of anguish.
"There now," says the repairer, "just that little extra pressure from the sound-post enables us to see how far the opening extends; it is not all the way along, and there does not appear to be anything to prevent it coming together evenly again."
The chief now dexterously, with the point of the "setter," takes the sound-post out, the owner looking on with some amount of astonishment.
"You call in the day after to-morrow, sir, and I hope you will find it as right as ever."
These words have a cheering effect on the owner. "You are sure that will not be too soon," he observes. "Oh no," replies the other, "we shall put three or four studs along the centre, inside, and that will prevent it going again."
"But how," rejoins the owner, "are you going to put studs along the joint inside without opening the instrument?"—he was getting interested.
"Well, you leave that to us, sir, and we will tell you afterwards." This was said in consequence of a fear that the amateur would be using the time of the establishment, and as a result the amateur and owner walked away satisfied.