Complete disaster. I chose a small metal-works shop as far from Philadelphia as the bus would take me and told the amiable teenager at the counter that I wanted him to transfer what I had on this piece of paper to these brass plates, an inside joke, a present for a crossword puzzle nut. Of course, I was nervous and so I was over-explaining. The kid was simply bored, not disbelieving; engraving was engraving, he couldn’t have cared less what happened to it after it was paid for. Unfortunately, he did too good a job. The engraving on WHN is fairly crude, maybe done by hand? Perhaps that’s the answer. One of those engraving pens. More shopping.