Showing posts with label stop me before i thrift again. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stop me before i thrift again. Show all posts

Friday, September 26, 2014

Magic Redux: A Gift from the W.W.W.W.W.W.

The "witchbox" project came to a close this morning, as my youngest tore into her stack of presents. Front and center on the table was the gift in question, which my wife and I denied all knowledge about. You learn very quickly as a parent that lying and messing with your child's head are two simple, but deeply satisfying joys. So let's follow the deception train to from start to finish:

If you read the post from the start of the week, you'll know that my wife and beloved co-liar were informed recently -- in the matter-of-fact way that six-year-olds have -- that my daughter, was, in fact, a witch. As she kept scavenging scraggly, splinter-laden sticks from the yard to wave at us and her siblings, we figured this was a fad that was going to stick for at least a little while. Since she's been using the laundry soap cups to mix up sand-and-leaf "potions" in the yard, and since we're tired of sand-and-leaves in the laundry, we set out to make an inexpensive witches kit for her birthday. We pulled this together in about a week and a half, with inspiration nearly completely stolen from Dante's Wardrobe and her excellent faux package projects.

Step one was sourcing replacement bottles for the potions. Assorted bud vases from local thrift stores supplied these:

Bottle assortment

Tip: the more exotic-looking the bottle, the better the effect. That tall white bottle with the faded gilt (?) designs was the hit of the day.

Since they are secondhand, and some are a little past their best days, I had the idea that these would be a gift from a real witch, made up of some of her leftovers. Co-conspirator was tasked with finding a box big enough to hold all these, which she did with excellence:

Box and such


It's difficult to tell but this is a decorative book-shaped box made from heavy cardboard. She also picked up some fancy tissue paper and ribbon, and raided the papercrafting aisle and our own craft supplies for more items to include. Here's what it looked like last night, minus the bottles, which are off-camera.

The withbox, pre-assembly

For wands, we have a couple of pieces of leftover dowel rod from the garage, sanded down a bit and sprayed with scrapbooking sealant containing glitter. Clear plant marbles went into an old bag we had around. Given her steadier hands, the missus volunteered herself to fill up the tiny glass vials of "potion ingredients" (glitter, flakes of paper, tiny beads) while I worked on wrapping and packing up the bottles, and the small mortar and pestle that's packed up here in cardboard and tape.

I brought all my Tetris skills to bear:

The withchbox, bottles, balls, and wands

...while a lot of careful funneling and filling happened next to me...

A few potion/spell ingredients

Pack into the open space with some remaining tissue, and add a few feathers... "phoenix down," suggested my middle child, a Harry Potter fan. Better than my suggestion of "squished owl."

The witchbox complete

And seal it up with some more ribbon, which we were surprised to discover was two-tone:

Witchbox ready for delivery

To provide a cover story for this assembly, and because I always relish an excuse to play with pens, there was a letter enclosed (click for more readable size):

Letter to a witch, part 1
Letter to a witch, part 2

My only regret with this letter -- beyond my penmanship -- is that I did not include "Wizard" in the organization name, because seven W's in a row is just that much funnier than six.



The unboxing was a great success:

The witchbox revealed

Grizelda's letter was read aloud by the recipient, and I'm pleased that she both laughed and said "ew" at all the right places. Clearly, my target audience is seven-year-olds.



Our goals for this project were do amuse and delight, on a budget, and to get nature out of the laundry room. Did we succeed?

Amusement and delight are a huge yes. As I was packing up for work this morning, youngest was already preparing to mix up some concoction in the back yard. I expect we'll be finding gold glitter and mysterious purple powders in our lawn for years.

On a budget
is an optimistic maybe. There were a number of new items in the mix, like the glitters, the box, ribbon, the tiny bottles. Everything purchased was on clearance or came from a discount or thrift store. Some of the items were things we had around the house. That tall white bottle that was so awesome cost all of 25¢  Kids of this age don't care.

The old adage about "time is money" applies here, too. If we had started sooner, I bet we could have sourced more of these things at lower cost. Those tiny vials arrived about 10 hours before the package was actually opened, for instance... but they are the same bottles for sale at the craft store across the street, which I could have snagged with a coupon. Admittedly, it's hard to plan around the whims of a 6 year-old, and who knows where we would have hidden everything in the meantime.

In general, though, I'll say we got far more for our time and money than the standard pink plastic playset. It's easy to pick something off the shelf and hand it to your kids, and I will be the first to admit that we've done that on more than one occasion. We are not a Pinterest-type household. But I also see the worth, and yes, the magic, in doing a project like this, especially an open-ended one that encourages imagination. Already we're wondering how to write a thank-you note to a witch.

I'm certainly glad we did it, and I don't even feel a little bit like a liar.

Sunday, September 21, 2014

That Magical Age

20140921 typecast pt1

Bottle assortment

20140921 typecast pt2

Box and such

20140921 typecast pt3

Typed on a very Muggle-ish 1952 Skyriter
Smith-Corona Skyriter c. 1952

It's alarming to me how out-of-practice I've gotten at typing. Typos, dropped words... you'd think we were in the middle of NaNoWriMo. Which, incidentally, is approaching at an alarming pace: even faster than my kids are growing, it feels like. I hope to get some more limbering-up typecasts in during the next month.

Thursday, May 22, 2014

Reflexes, Resonance, and Focusing on Infinity

Focus on infinity
See note for photo pedants, below

20140522 typecast pt1
* GAS = Gear Acquisition Syndrome, a plague of the camera enthusiast

Argoflex EF

20140522 typecast pt2

It's been far too long since I pulled out a typewriter and whipped up a typecast. I hope not to stray too far from what I consider to be the core act of a Typospherian. This was banged out on the first machine I had at hand, a locally sourced Olympia SM3. It's good to see that I have not forgotten how to make typos, though all the shadowing does tell me that I'm slow to get my hands out of the way of the keys. "Argus" is the camera brand, not "Argo" as my brain insisted. Other typo corrections are left as an exercise to the reader.

I see many of the blogs in the 'sphere are turning cameraward now. Maybe it's just because summer is approaching here in the U.S., and so one's thoughts turn naturally towards being in a dark room splashing around in cool water. The natural pungentness of the homebrew Caffenol-C developer does mean, though, that your dark room should be well-ventilated. (And while we're on the subject, ye gods do my kids look little in those old photos. Five years!)

Other photo bloggers: what are you using for fixer? Seems to me that was the only part of the process where I had to "go commercial" and just used a fixer concentrate. When that finally ran out, I set everything on the shelf again, and then evidently got busy for half a decade.

Film really is tremendous fun, and black-and-white developing is a large part of that. It's alchemy, pure and simple, turning light and microscopic silver particles into art with nothing more than coffee and soap.

The Argoflex EF (says the Internet) is a metal-bodied version of the earlier Bakelite model E and some variants. It's pretty heavy, reminiscent of the Argus C3 "brick" camera that shares the same simplicity and meshed-gear design. It's a basic design, compared to the far fiddlier -- and honestly, much nicer -- Rolleiflex cameras that I inherited from my late grandfather. I would not be afraid to take the Argoflex out to the beach, for example. It does take 620 film, but true to the Typospherian spirit, modern 120 film can be wound onto old 620 spools to fit.


Note for photo pedants: yes, I know this is not how one technically uses the infinity mark on the lens. Although this may be how one sets it for getting the focus coupling sorted out.

For those not in the know, you line up the marks on the lenses with the setting of the aperture -- the opening -- to find out the depth-of-field of your photo. Closing the aperture into a small opening allows a broad depth-of-field, or basically a photo that's in focus for a much of the distance (think landscape shots.) For sweet "bokeh" effects or to bring one area of the picture into focus, you open up the aperture and line up the marks accordingly. Aperture settings are marked in pairs on manual focus lenses. On this camera, the aperture settings are:

18 12.7 9 6.3 4.5 | 4.5 6.3 9 12.7 18

If I were set up for a real photo, that infinity mark should be lined up over one of these settings. For philosophical reasons and because the light was better :-) I put the infinity mark at the central line.

Friday, July 19, 2013

Replacement

Had it been any other machine, I would have opted either to leave it behind, or put it directly up for adoption...

Laptop money, c. 1954

But you know, I have this weakness... for all things Olympia.

Lifetime lubrication

Especially SM3s, and extra-especially ones with a Pica typeface. I find the bigger face easier to read and edit, and it seems to scan better for me at NaNoWriMo time.

The tweedy case threw me off at first, and it was locked, so if nothing else, I had to solve the mystery. I gathered up my tiny collection of case keys (two) and hoped that one would fit so I could solve The Secret of the Anonymous Case at Goodwill. Evidently, junior sleuths the world over have nothing to fear, as closer inspection the next day revealed that someone had masking-taped the manual to the outside of the case. Tucked inside the manual, though, were the added bits of ephemeral joy scanned above: the original invoice, and the lifetime lubrication and oiling certificate, sealed by the Northern California Office Machine Dealers Association. As soon as I build that time machine, I plan to dial it back and check out one of their regional meetings.

Peck's Office Appliance Company left a fine sticker inside the case which I'll have to photograph and include here. It's swag, to quote my teenager. The former site of Peck's appears to be smack in the middle of the BART line's Rockridge station, the San Francisco Bay Area Rapid Transit system: an electric elevated/subway train that is one of the major transit options around here. They're currently having a labor dispute, and we suffered from a strike back at the beginning of the summer that led to serious traffic headaches. They're still battling it out, leaving everyone scrambling for alternate ways to get around.


View Larger Map

That's something we don't really think about as commuters: the homes and businesses that were replaced by our transit system. It really only comes to mind in a few places along the line, as the tracks skirt close to a crumbling property or appears in the narrow buffer between streets. Rockridge was one of the stops on the line that I rode for years in and out of San Francisco. BART opened in the 1970s, and was a fixture out in the suburbs by the time I moved to California twenty-five or so years later. Rockridge station opened up in 1973, says Wikipedia, just nineteen years after this typewriter was sold. I don't know how long Peck's held on after that, but I don't think I'll be able to cash in on that "Lifetime Lubrication" offer any time soon.

Like all good Olys, this one needs the standard bushing replacement surgery. It's no big deal: I'm familiar with the process now, and know exactly where to go in the hardware store for the replacement parts.

Broken typewriter? Call a plumber

Replacing a set of crushed and fossilized bushings hardly warrants a mention...

Smushed

What this does mean, though, is that one of the other machines is now up for adoption. After some soul-searching, I've put up a Smith-Corona Sterling that's basically sat idle since it came in on a swap from Olivander of Machines of Loving Grace fame. It, along with the other machines, are up on a new dedicated "adoption" page. This might be the best way for me to deal with the thrill of the hunt, without the space considerations of the "trophies": find 'em, fix em, find new homes for 'em. Sometimes replacement is the only way.

UPDATE: the lighting couldn't be much worse for these. Anyone know a secret for getting White-Out out of crinkle paint? (At least I hope it's White-Out) 

Olympia SM3, c.1954

Ted's database says 1953 for serial number 403296. Sounds about right to me.

Peck's Sticker

Golden label with green lettering, just about the same as the paint color. Stylin'! I wouldn't mind this being on the machine itself, but it's discreetly tucked inside the case lid.

Thursday, July 18, 2013

Boxing Day is Coming, an UJTU

Those of you waiting on an update from the Clear Out have just a bit longer to wait. I opted to go ahead and order a quantity of shipping boxes for both inner- and outer-layer packing, and even splurged on the double-wall box for the inside. I've read too many horror stories about typewriter shipments gone Horribly Awry to trust to anything less. The good news is that this should actually bring the total ship cost down slightly since I'll just pro-rate across all the machines going out.

Those of you (Joe?) asking for a semi-portable machine may have a little longer since those things are a tad bigger. I'm hopeful that I'll be able to repurpose a computer box from the office.



In the meantime, Fate is greatly amused at my attempts to stop accumulating machines. Aside from the usual plastic wedges, I spotted a familiar-shaped case at Goodwill, though (luckily?) the lock is on and the key is missing. Hmmm... is it worth it? I never thought this hobby would get me seriously thinking about the value of owning a small set of lockpicks on a keyring... and possessing the skills to use them, too. I'm trying to stay true to my new mantra... One machine in, one machine out...



News that the Kremlin is buying typewriters to presumably replace hackable computers is rocketing around my news feed now. I find it interesting that nearly ever news outlet that's carried the story has chosen to illustrate it with a photo of a vintage manual machine, instead of the electric wedges that they will surely be buying. There's a lot of debate on the various Yahoo typewriter lists about the hackability/spyproof nature of an electric machine. Physical access appears to be crucial, although there's talk about reading the electrical signals output by such a machine, too: monitoring the amount of energy needed to rotate a daisy-wheel print element, for example, or the drop in current as the typewriter is being used. It's all very James Bond. I'm sure the modern-day spy would just use a tiny digital camera, but if we're going back to typed documents, we really need a double-agent outfitted with a Minox.



I'm also trying to work through my backlog of fountain pen ink cartridges. If you ever feel like complaining about the cost of inkjet printer supplies -- the consumables cost more per ounce than human blood -- then let me steer you towards your local office supply store. If you can find a package of cartridges, and do a little mental arithmetic, you'll soon realize that those tiny plastic tubes must be filled with unicorn tears. I just got a pair of "Universal" converters for my everyday pen so I can actually start working through the bottles of ink I have stowed around. Any Noodler's users out there? My wife is always asking for gift ideas for me for holidays-and-birthdays, and I'm at the point where something consumable is a lot more desirable than something that will sit around and need dusting (cf. the typewriter clean-out.) Ink is just about perfect,as I take copious notes at work, and like to mark up my rough drafts. Ink recommendations, anyone?

Saturday, July 6, 2013

The Clickthing Clear-Out: "The Rules," such as they are

The Issue at Hand 

In case you missed it, limited storage space and a rare burst of common sense has me paring down a lot of my machines. My first pass is to try and get them into Typospherian homes, since I have a number of keychopper-tempting machines that I'd rather see used than turned into a bracelet. I'm funny like that.

So, I've spent the week pulling together most -- not all, mind you, just most -- of the machines into one place, so I can do a proper inventory.

Conclusion: I'm about three cases away from my own Very Special Episode of a hoarding show:

The Pile
Not shown: a few more portables, and the standards. Egad.

What started out as a means to acquire a useful writing machine-and-spares has turned into a space-consuming bad habit.

Confidential to Messrs. Seaver, Polt, and Messenger: I know that this is a typical weekend haul for you gentlemen. For our tiny little ranch home, though, it's a blight.

Next step: catalog everything


So my next task is a proper inventory. I've already decided that the machines will be grouped and priced according to size.
  • travel typers
  • portables
  • semi-portables
  • standards

I need to get an inventory of the machines, and for that I'll note:
  • Make and model
  • Serial number and my guess at year (per Ted's expanding serial number database)
  • Type size and style, most are just a plain Roman-type face
  • If anyone has been promised particular machine, including me :-)
UPDATE: the available inventory is online in a dedicated page.
All of the machines I'm planning to ship out are in typing shape, although I know of a few hiccups here and there. Serious repair cases (the Underwood Noiseless, for example) are staying put. And of course, I have favorites, too.

Once I get the catalog in place, I'll get it published here and we'll move ahead.

After that: adoption

My #1 goal is the safe and swift placement of these machines into new homes. I'm generally doing a first-come, first-served approach, but I do prefer local pickups if it can be managed, and shorter shipment versus longer transit if not. I'm going out-of-pocket for packing supplies, so the less the kind folks at the UPS store need to see me, the better.

Again, shipping will not be cheap. I'm a student of the schools of Double-Boxing and Over-Packing, and know that a case is not protection against transit. Please budget accordingly. I'm happy to work out payment-by-installment with you if you're a Typospherian in good standing. We'll get it sorted out.

PayPal is gladly accepted here at Clickthing Typewriter Closeouts, and we thank you for finding loving (?) homes to these fine machines, and for staving off both divorce proceedings* or paramedics finding me crushed under the Smith-Corona section after the next earthquake.**

* Kidding: Mrs. Click has been very supportive, as long as she stays off the porch and doesn't count the cases

** Not entirely kidding


Bonus Micro-Blog: Typewriter jewelry I can get behind

Not the key-based sort, of course, but this stuff: card-catalog jewelry. The specific one I linked to claims to be a men's necklace, which, I dunno, maybe? Cufflinks seems like a more natural "men's" category to me, though I guess each is necessarily a one-off unless the library had two copies of the book.

But does the product need to be authentic? A clever typewriter-owner could make a quick trip to the library with some tea-stained cardstock and churn out the raw materials for hundreds of these things until they were chucked out for the racket. Got a favorite book? Bang out a pseudo library-card or two and turn them into some retro-reader-chic fashion.

Perhaps one of the more artistically-minded members of the 'Sphere can roll up a "typer-safe" logo for Etsy sellers, in the same way the tuna industry proclaims "dolphin-safe" products. Now's the time to capitalize on the goodwill from the documentary and promote a little typewriter justice. Down with poached keys! Up with harmless re-purposing!

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

Just Following the Code, Ma'am

THE TYPEWRITER CODE (abridged)


Keep a close eye on the keys

Pretty little daisies, all in a row

Stripes make everything better

Type-faster stripes

It's OK to celebrate your finds in private

Be Silent!

But it's more fun to show off

Another problem child


Usually a wasteland of typers except for smoke-smuggered seventies electrics, St. Vincent de Paul came through today with a lucky, lovely find. Elation turned to mild displeasure as I catalogued the issues in the store:

  • The ribbon color won't come out of red,
  • The ribbon vibrator isn't moving, though it can be moved,
  • and ribbon posts aren't advancing, though the mechanism looks clean. 
I suspect a common cause, which will probably mean shelling this machine to see what's up.

  • The line-advance lever... isn't
  • The ratchet is turned off, and there's no button in the left-hand knob
  • Something's up with the paper bail so it's not touching the platen
A size 3 knitting needle will easily fit into the opening, though, so maybe an exploratory poke is in order. It's handy to have hobbies that intersect with one another.

Issues aside, and they are legion, it's Just. So. Pretty. Those stripes! Those keys! All the main typing operations function, and it's still got a full set of tab stops resting on the rack in the back. I'm hoping the problems are recently introduced, and easily reversed. What fun is it only having one or two repair projects waiting on the bench?



Update: In the comments, Rob Bowker correctly noted the similarity between this machine and a flat-top portable.
I'm curious - just HOW different are these from the original Corona 4s? From ribbon vibrator through paper fingers all the way to the key tops - it looks the same but in different clothing.
He's right of course: except for the newer machine's backspace key moving to the opposite side to make room for the tabulator, there's very little different between these two machines in my collection:

c. 1939
Corona Standard typewriter, c.1939

c. 1948


Another problem child


They're so similar, in fact, that I pulled out the flat-top machine last night to inspect the line-advance mechanism. In turn, I found and corrected the problem on the newer machine this morning -- someone had flipped a small spring-tensioned part around its pivot point 180 degrees, and this is the part that engages with the toothed ratchet wheel on the platen. Flip it back into place, and the line-advance lever works properly (almost.)

This also corrects the issue with the paper bail, since that part sat in the way. Now it's back in place and all is right with the world.

The platen still spins freely, though, and this is where the flat-top won't be much help, since it doesn't feature a mechanism to disengage the ratchet. I removed the left knob from the newer machine just to see if I could make some progress, and I can force the ratchet to re-engage if I push the shaft into the machine with a fingertip. I know all the parts are in there and working, so I just need to learn how to make them work all the time.

Update 2: I just remembered that my newer Smith-Corona machines have a pull-rod on the left knob to disengage the ratchet, not a push-button. Suddenly this makes all kinds of sense. Looks like I'm off to check the newer machines to see how they work, too.

Anyhow, two mysteries solved already, and I've got clues for a third. A productive twelve hours!

Update 3: And I think I've got just about everything solved. The color-select lever was just jamming up, probably due to the mechanisms not having been moved in how many decades. I shelled the machine to follow the linkages and check for impediments, worked the mechanisms, and now the lever and ribbon vibrator are behaving properly AND the spool-posts are turning. It's a repair trifecta.

I've got positive news on the ratchet front, too, and I'll share that in a future post. Hopefully a typecast!

Friday, April 5, 2013

Ouch

I don't know if I have the luck of Adwoa or Robert but two typewriters crossed my path today: an unremarkable and very stinky SCM Galaxie that I left behind, and this lovely piece of keychop-bait sitting at a local antique shop:

Underwood Noiseless c1934

Ted's database puts this in 1934, which is a fine year for typewriter style. The keys on this machine look brand-new, though there are a few issues below the dirt-and-grime layer. The drawband is snapped, as one would expect in a machine this age. The bell doesn't ring, though the mechanisms appear to be complete.

Being a little preoccupied today, I also failed to notice that the return lever is missing.

Underwood Noiseless, missing one return lever

If I was earlier in my type-accumulating career, I might have thought this an impassable obstacle, but it looks more like a hassle than anything else. I can always advance the line by hand for now, and maybe I can take a page from the Filthy Platen Playbook and have my own replacement made. I'm shockingly unstressed about the whole thing.

UPDATE: Scott's machine was identical. Not only can I have a replacement made, but I can use his very design. This is where the Typosphere is a Huge Win, people -- collectors helping collectors, worldwide.

Besides, I'm a huge sucker for old repair shop labels, and I love this one, right on the front of the machine.

White & Dippel or Marysville CA

Wounded or not, it would have hurt to leave this one behind.

UPDATE: a few more macro shots showing the site of the broken lever. Click to empixelate.

Underwood Noiseless return lever, detail Underwood Noiseless return lever, detail Underwood Noiseless return lever, detail



Thursday, February 14, 2013

Love

typecast 20130214

Maybe Alan just has better lighting than I do, but his example looks more burgundy-and-cream. This one is very much a chocolate color. How apt, for Valentine's Day.

Typed with doe-eyed admiration on a 1954 Underwood De Luxe "Quiet Tab"
Underwood De Luxe Quiet Tab c. 1954

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

ITAM Temptations

In the spirit of Adwoa's jealousy-inducing trips to well-stocked Swiss flea markets, I thought I'd celebrate my self-restraint and post some of the local machines that have been coming up on our local Craigslist and have not come home with me. The moral here is "you can't save them all (but you'll want to.)"


This monster shows up under a "RARE ITEMS TO BARTER" heading, which is never encouraging. Rare-ness is only partially true, in my opinion: the seller usually thinks it means "worth a lot of money" whereas I see it as "you don't see them very often any more, but they were made by the tens of thousands." Rarer still is the desk that could accommodate that wide carriage.


Another wide-carriage monster, which has those oh-so-desirable keys that send crafters into fits. I already have four standard machines -- four! -- and honestly don't have room for them all. Two of those four are Royals, and at this point I've pledged that the only other one I'll consider bringing in is an Olympia SG1.


Like Adwoa and her sewing machines, sometimes you see the same old friends pop up over and over. This old IBM electric comes up every month or two. The seller isn't sure that it works any more, and electrics as a rule scare me a bit. I saw one of these in person once: it was an impressively heavy piece of machinery. Now I know why all the mid-century office desks where made of heavy-duty steel -- they had to be.


This photo pains me the most, as it was a last-second "all of these will go to the dump tomorrow!" post. In the shadows on the left... do you see it? Yes, it's an Olympia SM3 case. Sigh.  Those machines are my favorite portables, which is evident by the fact that I own... three? four? I'm not even sure, which shows how far the sickness has progressed. Sadly, this is a couple of cities over from my own, and I don't have time to battle the traffic and head out there to rummage.

I did save one of my own SM3s from a similar curbside fate a few years ago, and it was well worth it. I am consoling myself with the lie that it's probably a rusted old heap although I know it's not.


This is one of a series of lovely photos of this machine: the seller did their homework and lists the likely correct year of this machine as a 1938. So pretty! Also: so expensive! For a while they were asking around $350 for this. Egad. I have nearly the same machine, bought for less than a tenth of that price. Mine also has the hinky Royal left-margin issue and a crumbling ribbon-advance gear. Lovely to look at, I'll grant you that.



One last one to share: this isn't a Craigslist posting, but is in fact my own sighting, a two-tone Underwood "Quiet Tab De Luxe" in pretty good shape at my local thrift store. This is very tempting, especially on the heels of all those machines seen above. I'm hoping some soul will come across it and adopt it, as it's in good shape, types evenly, and even has some bits of ephemera with it (cleaning brush, manual, touch-typing guide.) And if not? Well, maybe I will need to find room for it, in celebration of ITAM and in tribute to the ones that got away.

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Striptease

typecast 20120522
KMart 100 typewriter
KMart 100 typewriter
KMart 100 typewriter


Presented on a strip of adding-machine tape on a very slippery platen. Looks like it's time to try the brake fluid trick, too. Typewriter images from shopgoodwill.com

From the keys of a Royal 1947 Quiet De Luxe
Royal Quiet De Luxe, c1947