The “Odamifino” ([Plate XXVI], facing p. 74.).
This was picked up quite recently by a keen collector of rags and bones and other relics whose glory has departed. It was snapped out of his day’s doings by a flourishing dealer in anything that blew into his yard, and it was only by my going over the top of about 10,000 rabbit skins, the age of which could be more accurately guessed by their odour than by their sealskin-like appearance, that I caught sight of it. Then ensued a discussion as to the part this pewter had played in the past. The R and B collector called it a “Funniosity,” the skin specialist diagnosed it as a “Cream jug,” while a third gentleman (who dare not take on any other job than spirit testing while he is drawing out-of-work pay) said without hesitation, but not very distinctly, “Odamifino,” with a pronounced emphasis on the second syllable. When I suggested it might be a barber’s shaving-pot I was immediately ruled out of that court, as “Barbers never used anything made of pewter.”
Now if any collector can inform me when “Odamifinos” were in vogue, and why they came into existence, I shall be obliged, and in the meantime I will consider the cleaning, for is not cleanliness akin to collectingness? At present it has hardly an appearance suitable to my cabinet of rarities, while its high-sounding designation suggests that as its proper environment, and yet I have in mind the quip of that inveterate humorist Froude, “A thing of beauty is a joy for ever,” muttered at the Annual Meeting of the Peace Congress, when Carlyle chipped in with a chuckle, “Rough hew them as we will,” to be capped by that infernal joker Dante with the remark, “You cannot paint the lily whiter.” At this point Mr. Chairman Darwin brought back the members to their customary somnolence with the admonition: “Come, gentlemen, please, don’t ape the silly goat. The next subject for consideration is ‘Shaving—should each customer have fresh water?’”
CLEANING
This was a great source of trouble to me and to those associated with my home life, and it was not until I had strained their patience almost to the separation point that I was informed: “You really must make some arrangement for getting the pewter cleaned elsewhere, as the maids have given warning they cannot put up with the master messing up the kitchen any longer. Half the saucepans are ruined, as of course they could not be used after having that filthy stuff in them.”
I started boiling corroded pieces and letting them soak in washing soda all night, but found this made no impression on those which had been most neglected, while some came bright after a good scouring with hot water and Brookes’s soap, being later polished with methylated spirit and plate powder. I may here advise the reader that the latter treatment is all I now find necessary to furbish up my stock and keep it presentable.
I will not dwell further on my early difficulties, but relate how they were overcome. At the time I was almost overwhelmed with putrid plates, dishes, and other things I had received Mr. Redman came to my rescue with the following recipe:
“2 oz. rock lime, 2 oz. caustic soda, 6 oz. common salt, 8 oz. common soda, dissolve in 3 quarts of water in a saucepan on the fire. When dissolved pour into a bowl, and when cold add eight quarts of cold water. Steep as long as necessary as much pewter as the liquid will cover, and the bath can be used until the liquor has lost its nature.”
I had a mixture made in a bath and let the things lie in this until the corrosion was easily wiped off, and I entrusted this job to a man who had been used to cleaning machinery and whose practical knowledge and serviceable hands made him far more competent than his employer. I never had the surface of the pewter injured in any way with the strong solution, and so long as the rubbing with the coarse flannel and Brookes’s soap was done the way of the grain—that is, circular or round and round—no scratching was apparent. When I say I have dealt with no fewer than 1,450 pieces the reader may gather that the trouble and expense has not been trifling.