Antiquing Trip to England: Day Three, Dover

Our third day in England started out with a stop at a local boot sale, or flea market. Sellers sold all sorts of things, new and old, from the boots (trunks) of their cars.

I found some great old toys at the table of a dealer who specialized in attic clean-outs of old houses. A Sooty xylophone, still in its box, first caught my eye. Sooty was a famous teddy bear hand puppet who was the star of his own British television show in the 1950s and 60s. He did magic tricks, and played "The Teddy Bears' Picnic" on a xylophone at the close of each program. Sooty had his own merchandise line, predominantly stuffed bears, of course. The xylophone has wonderful images of Sooty on each bar.

A little further down the table was an assortment of old cast lead toy figures which had clearly been played with and much loved. I chose a set of jungle animals; it reminded me of all those old movies about stalwart British adventurers. I also got a bear and a (rather misshapen) soldier playing a horn.

Another dealer at the boot sale had a small glazed case full of old clay pipes. These pipes are found in droves all along the riverbanks of Great Britian. Shortly before the trip, I had been watching an episode of Rick Steve's Europe in which he showed how these pipes can be found along the Thames in London when the tide is out. He explained that when these long clay pipes broke, as they invariably did, the owners would toss them into the rivers, traditional rubbish disposal sites. They did this for centuries, so there are lots of pipes (and other interesting things: some coming up in a future post!) to be found with a little digging near waterways all over the country. The two I purchased came from the River Medway, in Rochester, where our tour would be taking us later in the week. The white pipe is from 1640 (!) and the darker one is an Army Regimental pipe, circa 1870. It's rather moving to hold these artifacts and imagine who they first belonged to, so long ago...

After another scone break...

















...we headed off to our major destination of the day, Dover Castle, on the English Channel with France in sight across the water.

Dover Castle was built in the 1100s on the site of a Roman defensive structure and an even earlier Iron Age fort. A Roman lighthouse still stands on the grounds, and is reputedly haunted by the ghost of a centurion, still keeping his lonely vigil.

This was my first castle, and it didn't disappoint. Absolutely massive, with rings of defences, it covered acres of hilltop with spectacular views of the English Channel. The castle is very strategically located, and played a major role in the country's defense during both the Napoleonic Wars and World War II. Tunnels dug into the surrounding chalk hills, like something from a James Bond villian's lair, provided secrecy and safety for security operations during the wars.

The outer castle wall and entrance.

After going on a tour of the Secret Wartime Tunnels (no picture-taking allowed there, as they are still Secret, apparently), we came out onto a high balcony, looking out over the harbor, with France visible on the horizon:

The day ended with a stop at the White Cliffs of Dover, the beautiful chalk hills that line the southeastern coast of Britain. Just visible at the end of the highway in this photo is a tunnel going through one of the cliffs:

Coming up next: Day 4, shopping in Lewes, a beautiful town packed full of antique stores, plus Sue Pearson's world-famous teddy bear shop. I will confess: I bought so much here, I actually had blisters on my hands at the end of the day from carrying my shopping bags...this was my favorite day of the whole trip!

Miniature Tin Toy & Candy Shop

I found this antique miniature tin shop on display with a whole town full of other buildings, including a movie theater (with a marquee that read "Moving Pictures"), a drug store, and a red schoolhouse. Sadly I could only afford one, and this was my favorite, of course. Dating from 1914 and measuring just under 3 inches tall, the lithographed tin shop was originally a candy container.

The detail is remarkable
for such a tiny piece.
In the toy window,
you can just make out
a teddy bear, doll,
and red wagon:

1930s Playskool Pullman

About 25 years ago, when I first started collecting teddy bears, I saw an interesting antique toy mentioned in one of my reference books. In a chapter of hints for displaying miniature bears, the author had posed several tiny teddies in an old tin playset called the Playskool Pullman.

I had never heard of this toy, and I was immediately captivated. The tin Pullman car looked like a miniature suitcase from the outside, and measured 11 1/2 by 9 1/2 inches. A leather carrying handle allowed the owner to easily tote the Pullman along, perhaps on a real train trip. When opened, a miniature train car interior was revealed, complete with a porter's closet, fold-up berth with bedding, and a seating area of benches with a fold-down table. I was absolutely smitten: it was an amazing toy.

It also turned out to be an extremely rare toy. Designed by a preschool teacher in the late 1920s and made around 1930, the Playskool Pullman was reportedly only manufactured for a very brief time, perhaps only a year, before the Great Depression put a stop to the toy's production. For years and years, the Pullman eluded me. With the arrival of internet auctions, I finally saw a few, but the prices were high and the competition was fierce, due to the toy's rarity and crossover appeal to lots of different toy collectors: dollhouse lovers, toy train aficianados, tin toy fantatics, Playskool collectors. But finally, last year, I found one. The good news: it was cheap. The bad news: it looked like it had been sitting in a barn and slowly decomposing for the past 80 years. I bought it anyway, on the assumption that my mom could fix it. She did, and here it is:

Big Bear is running to catch the train, but it looks like he's too late.

Inside, the private compartment is home to 

three little Steiff bears.

The porter's closet on the left was originally intended to hold the mattresses and bedding, but most Pullman owners convert it into a bathroom, as I did with these antique German dollhouse pieces.

The top berth pulls down, revealing a cozy bed complete with 

sheets, blankets, and pillows. 

The littlest bear is tucked in for the night, 

falling asleep to the sound of the train clacking down the tracks.

For comparison, here's what the Pullman looked like when we got it:

Vintage "King Pin" Bowling Games

At an antique show last weekend, a toy dealer had three fantastic vintage bowling games on display in his booth. I relieved him of two.

Made in the 1930s-40s by the Baldwin Mfg. Co. of Brooklyn, New York, "King Pin" and its smaller sibling, "King Pin Jr." bring all the fun of bowling to your table top, minus the stinky shoes.

King Pin is a whopping 37 inches long, with a tin litho lane, wooden pins, and a cast iron, spring loaded bowler, 4 inches tall. He really bowls, although not terribly well, as the long lane has suffered some dents and warping which tend to throw the ball off its course. This only makes it more challenging, I feel.

To play, you pull the bowler's freakishly ginormous hand back, place the ball in front of him, and let it go!

From this angle, he looks rather as if he's late for work and running for a bus...

Here's what he's aiming for: a set of wooden pins (and yes, there are a few missing. If you saw how these things go flying across the room when the ball whacks them, you'd be amazed there are any left):

King Pin Jr. is a bit more manageable, at 19 inches long. Completely made of tin litho, it features a very dapper bowler, just 3 inches tall.

Isn't he cute? I love his vintage bowling shoes...

Vintage Space Man Robot

One of my favorite vintage robots is this, the "Space Man" made in Japan by Horikawa in the 1960s.

The 11 1/2 inch metal robot is unusual for its lithographed face, apparently representing an astronaut inside a mechanized robot suit.

I think he looks kind of like Robert Mitchum....

1950s Marx Circus Sideshow Playset

Here's another carnival-themed vintage toy that is, by today's standards, generally considered egregiously offensive. But it was phenomenally popular back in its day (the 1950s), when it allowed children the opportunity to run their own freak show!

The Marx Super Circus was a huge playset of plastic figures and tin litho structures that included a big top, ticket booth, circus performers both human and animal, and visitors. It also came with a two piece sideshow, complete with lithographed banners and a variety of plastic freaks.

My sideshow has only one  left: Chang and Eng, the famous real-life Siamese twins after whom all subsequent "siamese twins" have been named. (There's a great article about Chang and Eng, with lots of historical photographs, here.




The tin lithography on these pieces is really great and worth a closer look:

Chein Ferris Wheel

Made in the 1930s by the Chein company, this tin litho ferris wheel is 16 inches tall. The little cars have images of children riding in them, and the center spoke bears the ride's name, "Hercules," along with a fabulous smiling face. This toy just makes me happy whenever I look at it.

 Here it is in its natural habitat, my display of circusy toys.

(Another) Victorian Doll Trunk Full of Toys

Last December, I posted about a Victorian doll trunk full of antique toys that I purchased for Christmas. Well, incredibly, another one has come my way, and the neat thing is, its the very same pattern, just a smaller size, measuring 12 inches wide by 6  1/2 tall. The trunk and the toys within, left by the original owner, date from the 1890s - early 1900s, just as with the previous one.

The contents included a 14 inch china head doll wearing her old, handmade dress; a 5 inch dollhouse doll with a mohair wig, in her original clothing; a tiny jointed all bisque doll, only 2 inches tall; a tin toy horse, 3 3/4 inches long; two 5  1/4 inch J. & P. Coats Company advertising paper dolls, complete with extra outfits and hats; a child-made patchwork doll quilt; and a handcrafted needle case made from birch bark, probably an arts and crafts project done at a Victorian children's summer camp.

Inside the trunk.

The big china doll, wearing her simply smashing hat.

She is ready for her tea.

All the other goodies. The child-made

doll quilt and needle case are on the far right.

Here are some close ups of the paper dolls, which are incredibly beautiful. They were actually advertising premiums for the J.& P. Coats Company, later known as Coats & Clark, which made cotton thread. Several series of dolls were printed, and girls were encouraged to "collect them all!" The company's advertising information was printed on the back of each piece. Click on the picture to enlarge, and you'll see that one doll features kittens, while the other has several different toys, including a rather frightening jack in the box, a ball, and dollies of her own.

Here are a few close ups of the small dolls: the dollhouse doll, who is wearing her original, sewn-on dress with a cotton lace overlay and a big, bustly ribbon, and the itty bitty baby doll.

A snazzy polka dotted underskirt!

The itty bitty 2 inch all bisque baby.

Lastly, here's the tin horse, who just fascinates me. I'm not sure if he was originally flat like this, or if he was left outside and run over by something, perhaps one of those new-fangled "horseless carriages"...either way, he was obviously special to his young owner, who carefully tucked him away in the trunk when his playing days were over.

As always with these trunk lot finds, its remarkable to me that everything stayed together for so long and in such fine shape (horsie excepted), and it's very touching to handle the items and wonder about the child, or children, who played with them so long ago...

Vintage Kitchen Playset

I have several of these vintage tin toy kitchen playsets: they line the counters and appliance tops in my real kitchen, which I never use. I think I've used my Easy Bake Oven more than I have my real oven, now that I think about it...It's futile to expect real food, or even coffee, at my house, but if you want to play kitchen, I can totally hook you up.

Anyway, here's my latest set, scored at an antique show last weekend. All made of lithographed tin in the late 1940s - early 1950s, the stove is by Marx while the fridge and sink are by Wolverine. For scale, the stove measures 12 1/2 inches high.

The fridge features great lithography on the inside door, revealing well-stocked shelves, and houses some unique pressed tin food items:

The stove has an opening oven door with a bright red rack inside:

And the sink actually works: a reservoir on the back can be filled with water, which then pours out through the tap!

A very retro kitchen set, indeed. Makes me want to go to Grandma's for some pie.

Dick Tracy Tin Litho Car & Cap Gun

Character toys are an extremely popular subset of toy collecting. Competition for such toys is fierce, as many of them have cross-category appeal, for example, to collectors of comics or radio show premiums.

The famous cartoon detective Dick Tracy featured in a great tin-litho character toy made by the Marx Company in the late 1940s and early 1950s: the Dick Tracy Squad Car. It was offered in several sizes and varying degrees of deluxe-ness, from a simple palm-sized friction car to this 11 inch model with a wailing siren, working spotlight, and "gun sparks" created by a concealed flint. Mine is missing its spotlight and has a lot of play wear, but the lithography of Dick and his sidekicks is still bright and colorful.

I love the design of this toy. The characters are visible from all angles in the windows: head-on in the windshield, in profile on both sides of the car, and from the rear in the back window.

 

  

I found the Squad Car just a few years ago at an antique shop; my other Dick Tracy item has a much more interesting  provenance. I was home from college one summer, helping my mom with some gardening. All of a sudden there was a "clunk" as my shovel hit something metallic in the earth. I was an anthropology/museums major, with a special interest in archaelogy, and I began excitedly yelling, "hey, we found something! Could be a treasure!" And indeed it was: my mother unearthed this Dick Tracy cap gun, made by Hubley in the late 1940s, and said: "huh. I wondered where that went to. I missed it one day little Robbie and I played cops and robbers in the yard." So...this toy was buried in my grandmother's garden for several decades. It now resides in a place of honor in my toy collection (I didn't give it back to my mom. Finders keepers, you know...).