Crandall's Acrobats, 1867

My birthday last month was one of my happiest ever: I receieved an antique toy that had long been on my "It's Hopeless" wish list, as I had only ever seen it in museums or an occasional high-end auction. But then, just a couple of weeks before the big event, we found one from an online toy dealer, and at a reasonable price.

The toy is now one of the oldest in my collection, and, I think, one of the most beautiful. Patented in 1867 and made throughout the 1870s, Crandall's Acrobats were created by Charles M. Crandall, born in 1833. His business was first located in Covington, Pennsylvania, and later moved to Waverly, New York. He became one of the preeminent American toymakers of the 19th century, specializing in wooden toys, and is now famed for his building blocks, jointed figures, and puzzles.

The Acrobats came in a wooden box with a paper label, which reads:

[Crandall's Building Blocks]

Crandall's Great Show,

THE ACROBATS.

Full of Fun and Frolic, and Most Brilliant in Costume.

Will exhibit at the house of the purchaser Afternoon and Evening.

NO POSTPONEMENT ON ACCOUNT OF WEATHER.

MATINEE EVERY MORNING.

Admission Free, Children Half-Price.

[Patented Feb. 5th, 1867]

 

Inside the box are pieces to make five acrobat figures, comprised of separate torsos, heads, legs and arms. The legs and arms feature hand painted details, while the torsos and heads have beautifully lithographed paper designs, all different, printed on each side of the figure, which doubles the number of combinations possible.

 

 

 

Here are close-ups of some of the heads:

Yes, clowns are scary...this one especially so.

 

The Acrobats feature one of Crandall's most innovative designs: the pieces have slotted sides that  allow them to be connected in a dove-tail fashion. This enabled children to assemble the figures in a variety of combinations.

 

When assembled, the acrobats stand about eight inches tall:

The set also came with several slotted bases, into which the acrobats could be inserted. Then children could use the enclosed booklet or their own creativity to build acrobatic pyramids.

 

My set still retained remnants of its original booklet, now in an incredibly fragile state.



I'm off to hold my first matinee, "admission free and children half-price."

A Horse in Search of a Fire Engine

Last year, I evaluated a collection of antique cast iron toys for a friend who was ready to start selling. She had a lot of fire engines, ranging from some very beautiful 1800s era horse drawn engines all the way to chubby, cheery red 1950s trucks.

One of my favorite items in her collection was just a piece left over from a long-gone larger set, and I was able to rescue it and bring it home. This cast iron horse came from a very large fire engine: the horse itself is 7 inches long. The engine would have been an expensive one back in the 1870s-80s, and was probably pulled by two or three of these horses. This one, while its original paint is worn, is still quite beautiful; the complete toy must have been just absolutely gorgeous.

A really clever feature is visible if you look closely at the wheel below the horse's front legs: the axle is offset, not centered. When you roll the horse along a flat surface, this offset axle makes him move up and down, imitating the motion of a real galloping horse.

In this closeup of his head, you can see the lovely patina the original paint has acquired. All the details of the harness and face were handpainted. 

I wonder where this toy horse has been, and what he's seen, in his 140 years. I'm happy he was saved from the scrap heap, that fate of most broken things. He's now comfortably enjoying his well-earned retirement at Tracy's Home for Orphaned Toys.

Mr. Potato Head Picnic Pals

We're just about to head out for our Fourth of July picnic, so it's the perfect time to post one of my favorite vintage Mr. Potato Head sets: his friends the Picnic Pals, created in 1966.

The Picnic Pals were some of the most unusual items ever released in the Potato Head line. There were 6 characters, all featuring plastic heads with separate bodies: Frenchy Fry, Mr. Ketchup Head,  Frankie Frank, Mr. Mustard Head, Willy Burger, and, to wash it all down, Mr. Soda Pop Head.

From left to right: Frenchy Fry, Mrs. Ketchup Head, Mr. Mustard Head,
Frankie Frank, Mr. Soda Pop Head, and Willy Burger.

The Picnic Pals came with specialized accessory pieces made just for them: onion slice ears, pickle noses, and eyes the color of ketchup or mustard.

The Pals were sold in two ways: the first was the rare complete set box, shown below, which contained all the characters plus their original Potato friend.

A rather sinister looking Willy Burger and his henchman, Frankie Frank,
appear to threaten a trembling Frenchy Fry in this box art.
Not sure what that's all about.

The second variation was a tall, slim box with colorful art work, which included one main character, a condiment or beverage buddy, and a Mr. Potato Head.

For some unknown reason, Willy Burger is the hardest to find of the Picnic Pals, although they are all much more scarce than the regular Potato Heads.

We're off to our picnic to eat some of these.
Hopefully ours won't be staring at us.

R and L Camel Train Cereal Premiums

I've posted before about a big pile of R &L Company cereal premiums I found at a toy show a couple of years ago. Since then, I've added quite a few more R & L pieces to my collection. Here's one of my favorite sets.

In the late 1960s, an artist named Harry Hargreaves was asked to come up with an idea for a cereal premium set to be distributed through Kellogg's and manufactured by the R & L plastics company in Australia.  Hargreaves recalled the camel caravans he had seen while stationed in Egypt during WWII, long lines of laden camels walking in single file, commonly called "camel trains." Taking the phrase literally, Hargreaves crafted a beautifully designed set of tiny toys comprised of camel train cars with monkey passengers.

Made of a brittle plastic with delicate connector hooks, the toys are very fragile, and this fact, coupled with their very small size (the seated monkeys are a wee .5 inches tall, and the cars average 1.5 inches long) meant many were broken and lost over the past 40 years. The R &L Camel Trains are now some of the company's most sought premiums.



Each camel came separately in a box of cereal, and so did two accessory sets of the bed, canopy and some of the monkeys, which made collecting the whole series even more challenging. I can just imagine the frustration of children who got the sleeping car camel or first class camel, but never managed to find the bed or canopy to complete those cars. What a dastardly yet brilliant marketing campaign!

The engine is one of the most fanciful of the car designs:

Next is the guard van, atop which a monkey holding a blunderbuss watches over a treasure chest:

Behind this car comes the economy class camel, carrying a couple of monkey passengers seated in the open air:

It's no-frills service on the economy camel, but things are very different on the next car, the first class camel, complete with its canopy and top-hatted monkey rider:

And last but not least is the sleeper car camel, in which a tiny monkey rests in a bed borne on the back of a kneeling camel. A tiny bed pan (usually missing) hangs from the end of the bed.

Another camel was necessary to complete this set: the signal camel, along with a couple of flag waving monkeys. Without this set, your camel train would be sure to run into difficulties along its route. The ladder is detachable, making this another difficult set to find complete.

The tiny monkeys are worth a close-up of their own. The detail on such small toys, meant as mere cereal box giveaways, is quite remarkable. The flag monkey even has the stub of a cigar clenched in his teeth: 

Stay tooned: lots more R & L to come!

1970s British Mr. Potato Head

Part of a collection of vintage German and British Potato Heads I recently purchased, this boxed version was made in England by Peter Pan Toys in 1974. Licensed by Hasbro, it is nonetheless strikingly different from the American original. The plastic potato is a different shade of brown, and most of the accessory pieces are also differently colored and shaped. There was also a licensed character unique to England at this time: Mr. Egg Bodd, a hard-boiled egg man with an egg cup outfit he could wear. Sadly, I've yet to find one, but I remain hopeful.

Even though Mr. Potato Head came with a plastic potato by this time, this box depicts his friends made from real fruit and veggies. The art design of this box is quite crude compared to the richly illustrated German examples posted yesterday, but it has its own naive appeal.

Here's the British Mr. Potato Head inside his box,

surrounded by his simply drawn but charming friends.