Mr. Cranberrie

Meet  Mr.Cranberrie,  a wee little four inch ted made by bear artist extraordinaire Peng Peng. (She made his tiny outfit, too!) This very Christmasy-looking bear was, in fact, a holiday gift this year.

For a sense of just how small he is, 

Mr. C. is pictured sitting on a dollhouse porch. 

Antique Cast Iron and Tin Bell Pull Toy

This beautiful 1880s toy was one of my favorite Christmas presents this year, acquired from a collection I appraised in the autumn. Made of cast iron and pressed tin, a melodious chime rings as the 5 inch tall toy is pulled.

The little girl at the front is made of tin (is she skipping rope?) and retains some of her original paint. The cast iron wheels hold a bell between them. Toys like these were made by American companies such as Fallows of Philadelphia; Althof, Bergmann of New York; and Gong Bell of Connecticut throughout the mid to late nineteenth century.

 The cast iron assembly holding the chime bell.

1890 Frozen Charlotte Doll with Homemade Wardrobe & Cigar Box Armoire

Oh, I just love love love these sorts of toys: homemade, much-loved things that have been kept together for a century (or more!) and come with information about their original owner. This was another of my favorite Christmas gifts.

This wonderful dolly's armoire was made from two cigar boxes, probably by a father or grandfather. 11 inches tall, the armoire still retains many of its original cigar labels, including one with a patent date of 1886. The decoration on the outside of the box was applied, and consists of antique paper which gives an appearance of marquetry. The words on the armoire seemed rather cryptic, but research revealed "Our Dickie" was a pet name used for the pictured canary bird in the 1890s, while "Lula" was a popular girl's name at the same time.

 The inside shelves, with original cigar box labels. 

According to the pencilled note on the back of the armoire, this belonged to a little girl named (as nearly as I can decipher) Dorthea Sison, who lived in Maryville, Missouri, a town founded in 1845 in Nodaway County.

Still more historical information was found inside the armoire. Written on a beautiful Victorian Easter scrap were the words: "From Miss Pressler 1890."

Who was Miss Pressler? Perhaps a teacher, governess, or friend of the family? That part remains a mystery. My guess is she gave Dorthea the little Frozen Charlotte doll, 4 1/4 inches tall, who lives in the "Lula" labelled bottom drawer of the armoire:

My heart skipped a beat when I slid open the drawer to reveal this!

 Lula?

The little blonde doll has a particularly lovely face; however, her hands are broken off. But since Dorthea clearly didn't care, neither do I! (Besides, you can't tell they're missing when she's dressed...)

Dorthea made an entire wardrobe and even some accessories for her little doll, including red silk bloomers, a matching laundry bag, several blouses, two lace dresses, a cape, a blue tweed coat, a pillow, and even a tiny belt made from an orange ribbon and an itty bitty buckle.

 A second set of clothes in a larger size appear to have been made for a companion doll who is now, sadly, missing. These pieces include a feedsack apron and a black lace mourning veil.

Everything packs neatly

into the armoire for storage:




Somehow, this small lot of much-loved toys made their way from Missouri to an estate sale in New Hampshire, and from there, to an antique doll dealer in metropolitan Detroit before coming home with me. Quite a journey for such fragile toys! I plan to keep them together for the rest of my life, but who knows where Dorthea's dolly may travel to then?

Wind-Up Doggies

We spotted these two little wind up doggies at an antique flea market just before Christmas. Probably German and circa the 1930s, they measure 4 and 1/2 inches long. When their keys are wound, their tails spin in wild circles, while the ears on the larger dog flap back and forth in spectacularly comic fashion.

The littlest dog wears a red felt sweater. He reminds me of Asta, Nick and Nora Charles' dog in the Thin Man movies.





The doggies are just the right size to hang out in my doll kitchen.

1930s German Doll Kitchen

An antique German doll kitchen had long been on my wish list, and this past Christmas, Santa did not disappoint! This 1930s example came complete with its original floor covering, wallpapers, and furnishings. I added some accessories and a dolly cook. Measuring a hefty 27 inches wide by 11 inches high, the scale is larger than dollhouse, sized more for actual doll play. The kitchen is a delightful combination of classic Dutch kitchen decor and 1930s Art Deco styling.

The kitchen cabinet has wonderful Deco curves, a paper "linoleum" counter top, drawers that open, and real glass sliding doors.

The wonderful dry sink swivels into the counter, out of the way: 

The little blue and white stove is adorable, and the door opens. I added the china plates to cover the burner holes; they are much older, circa the mid 1800s, but fit perfectly. 

One of my most loved accessories is now in the kitchen: this tiny (1/2 inch tall) Royal Worcester pudding bowl, made in England in the mid 1800s. The piece is so very small and fragile, it's amazing to me that it survived. 

My china doll seemed to be the perfect match for this kitchen, in her color coordinated dress. She's looking forward to trying out the pudding bowl.

The doll kitchen is a very old and traditional German Christmas gift, dating all the way back to the 1700s.  In her wonderful book, Doll Kitchens, author Eva Stille explains that doll kitchens would be brought down from the attic each Christmastime by parents who would freshen them up with more grocery supplies, a new pie plate or two, and a bright new coat of paint. All winter, the kitchens would entertain the family's children, until with the warming spring weather, the toys, now depleted of provisions, temporarily lost their interest. They would be packed back up and returned to the attic as the children moved their play outdoors, only to be brought back down once more, restocked, and placed under the tree again the next Christmas.

The toys were usually passed down through several generations. Stille gives an example of an 1885 doll kitchen ordered by a wealthy family in Bregenz. The toy was passed down among girls in the family all the way to 1979, when it was bequeathed to the most recent descendant, who was still playing with it at the time of the book's publication in 1988!

I feel very fortunate to have finally received my own doll kitchen for Christmas.