Trishka's caftan was out at the elbows. But why should he ponder long over it? He took to his needle, cut a quarter off each sleeve: so mended the elbows.  
The caftan was all right again, only his arms were bare for a quarter of their length. That is no great matter, but every one is always laughing at Trishka. So Trishka says:
 
"I'm not a fool. I'll set this affair straight also. I'll make the sleeves longer than they were bef............