ELM DRESSER
DESCRIBING THE PEWTER
Bottom Shelf. Swiss Bottle. Hot-water Dish by T. Compton. Ladles by Ashberry and Coleman. Flask, 7½ inches, with screw-in cap.
First Shelf. Barber’s Pot. Milk Mug. Quaich. Moustache Mug. Hot-water Jug.
Second Shelf. Early Quart. Hot-water Plates by John Home (1760) and Henry Little (1755). Milk Jug (sold as a pilgrim’s bottle). Mulled Ale Jug.
Third Shelf. Plates 13½ inches in diameter.
Top Shelf. Chinese Tea Caddy. Jug 7 inches high. Blue-and-white Pottery Tureen by Burton, Hanley. Plates 15 inches, 16½ inches, 18 inches in diameter.
When wanting more chairs I noticed a set of spindle-back rushed seats with pony feet, and on enquiry was told they had “one arm and six ordinary.” Ere learning the price I was asked, “How many do you want?” The idea of splitting a set of chairs over a hundred years old, and in perfect condition! Yet this is an indication of the value placed on this type fifteen years ago, while to-day dealers are scouring the country-side to make up sets. I gleaned that these were made by the grandfather of our local house furnisher; he (the grandfather) had six sons, and kept a farm, also a wheelwright’s shop in the country; that the chairs were made in the dark evenings for a few shillings each, so I got them at about their original price; that the wood used was oak from an adjoining park, and after dressing it was stained mahogany in a bath, that the spindles were driven home with the wheelwright’s hammer, and that “Uncle Richard was the finest rusher in Lancashire.” This is undoubtedly true, for there is not a spindle loose or a rush out of place. ([Plate IX])
After buying the spindle-backs, on the same day and in the same street I visited another broker’s shop, but let me direct you in case you wish to call there any time. It is situated either higher up or lower down, according to which end of the street you enter by, but if you come out of a by-street you must be careful to turn either to the right or left, and keep straight on, for if you cross over and go ahead you will be up another street. Should you be walking you will keep to the right, but in case you drive or motor you must mind and keep to the left. Trams pass the door, and if you take the one going to Liverpool you will not get anywhere near it. It is situated on the opposite side facing a shop that has been “To Let” but is now occupied by a tradesman who has done well out of the war. By the by, if you happen to come in the evening, and take the North Star as your guide you will no doubt find the place—shut up. Readers can take so much more interest in a story when they have been made familiar with the locality, and especially in a case like this where the actual house has been pointed out. I entered the shop—do you follow me? I examined a birch chair with a broken arm, an artistic back, fluted legs, and a rush seat. While I am ruminating, the broker comes out of his parlour, leaving the door open, and I see other chairs of the same pattern, which are evidently in everyday use. I remark on them, and am invited to inspect. Having done so I enquire, “Will you sell them?” and am answered thus—“Will I sell ’um, I’ll sell you every old thing I’ve got.” I did not buy every old thing he’d got, but I secured the set of chairs, two arm and six ordinary, and when re-polished the figuring of the birch looked well. I also relieved him of a mahogany pedestal circular mirror, which I “could have for seven bob, as he was tired of seeing the thing about.” ([Plate IX])