And Away We Go!

QUESTION: Now that I’m in my fifties, I look back nostalgically on those cold winter days when snow piled high all around our house and school was closed. Those were the days when I got to spend the day sledding, or as my boyhood friends and I called it, “coasting.” Recently, I picked up this old sled at a flea market. It’s in pretty poor condition, but I’d like to bring it back to life. Can you tell me anything about it? Also, do you have any suggestions for its restoration?

ANSWER: What you purchased isn’t just any typical sled. It’s one made to hold an infant or a toddler or two. It’s also a non-steerable pull sled, unlike the one you probably used on those snowy days, known as a racing sled or Flexible Flyer.

But to really understand where this one came from, it’s important to go back and take a look at how sledding got to be such a popular pastime in America.


The neat thing about sleds is that everyone could enjoy them—young and old, rich and poor. They were quintessentially All-American. To a boy, a sled was his ticket to cheap and exciting wintertime fun. During the 1950s, coasting, as boys dubbed the sport, became the winter pastime of hundreds of thousands of kids living in the northern states.

Though sledding existed in the US since Colonial times, it really didn’t gain popularity until the late 19th century when downhill sledding became an organized sport and sled design a sophisticated art. Racing was what it was all about. Early sleds bore names like the Comet, Reliance, Thunder, or Flying Cloud.

With the invention of the Flexible Flyer, the first steerable sled, by Sameul L. Allen in the late 1880s, sledding drastically changed. Allen’s prominent Philadelphia Quaker parents sent him to the Westtown Boarding School in Chester County, Pennsylvania, as age 11. After graduation, he moved to the family farm in 1861 near Westfield, New Jersey, half-way between Moorestown and Riverton, where he married and became a farmer. Soon he established a company to manufacture farm implements. But since this was seasonal, Allen needed a product he could make in the summer and sell in the winter. He decided to make sleds.

Allen’s first sled, known as the "Fairy Coaster," was a double runner bobsled that held three or four adults. Light and folding easily for transport, the sled’s runners and supports were made of steel with plush seats. But at $50.00, it cost too much to sell in quantity. He began testing his sleds at Westtown School (also known for its part in the development of the game Monopoly), his alma mater.



It wasn’t until he came up with the ideas for a T-shaped runner and slatted seat, both new concepts at this time, that he made any progress. After it was proven, Allen called his sled the “Flexible Flyer,” an appropriate name because the sled was fast considering its weight and size and the only steerable sled at the time.

Allen eventually convinced two great department stores, John Wanamaker in Philadelphia and R.H. Macy in New York, to sell his Flexible Flyers. By 1915, he was selling 2,000 sleds a day.

By 1917, sled manufacturers like Casper H. Oermann of The American Toy and Novelty Works in York, Pennsylvania, built their sleds with hardwoods and nickel plated steel bumpers and grooved runners.

 B. Garton, who began making his sleds in 1879, in Sheboygan, Wisconsin, made his sled decks from a special weather resistant five-layered plywood imported from Finland. He then silk screened colorful designs, using a brilliant red paint known in the trade as "Garton Red," on each deck.

Sleds came in two basic types–clipper and cutters. Designed for boys and perfect for belly flops, the long and low slung clipper sled had its deck mounted directly onto low, "squatty" wooden or metal runners which ended in a point. The rider threw himself on the deck and sped down the hill head first. Speed was most important.

The Standard Novelty Company of Duncannon, Pa, produced The Racer and Sno-ball, both nonsteerable sleds, and the Lightning Guider. By the 1920s, it had produced more children's sleds than any other American company. Today, the factory operates as the Old Sled Works, a museum, antique, and craft center.

Bringing an old sled that has seen better days back to life isn’t difficult. But it does take time and effort. To restore any sled, first sand all the metal parts with coarse sandpaper, then medium, then fine. Give the metal parts an undercoating of RustOLeum paint, followed by a second coat of RustOLeum in whatever color you choose. For the most part, these sleds would have had bright red metal parts.

Next, sand the wooden parts with medium sandpaper until smooth, then wipe down with a dampish cloth, preferably an old washcloth. Repeat the process with fine sandpaper. After wiping down the wood a second time, give it two coats of coat of glossy polyurthethane varnish. You may wish to stain the wood using an oak stain first. Of course, you could choose to paint the desk and surround, but these sleds would have had natural finishes.

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We've Come a Long Way Baby

QUESTION: I discovered an unusual bottle in a box lot I bought at a local house sale.  The bottle is about six or seven inches long, pale green, and oval but doesn’t have a flat bottom, so it must lay on its front or back. Do you have any idea what this little bottle would have contained or been used for?

ANSWER: Believe it or not, your little bottle once held baby’s milk.
           
The development of baby bottles took centuries to transform into the sterile plastic throwaways in use today. As knowledge of germs and hygiene developed, so did the infant feeder. While parents of earlier times sensed that babies who were breast fed had a better chance at surviving, it wasn't until the early 20th century that mothers and bottle makers realized that clean, sterile feeders were necessary to protect a baby's health.

Before then, bottle makers created a variety of feeders—from tiny coffeepot-shaped ones of tin to china submarine-shaped flasks decorated in Flow Blue and transferware patterns. Glass bottles didn’t come on the scene until the mid-19th century.

Nipples, made of wood, ivory, bone, sterling, pewter, leather„ rags, sponge, rubber, and yes, a pickled cow's teat, were nothing like those in use today.

Much like today, bottles were necessary because some mothers couldn’t breast feed, and, unlike today, it wasn’t always fashionable to nurse. When a friend asked Queen Victoria if she intended to breast feed, she reportedly said she had no intention of making  a cow of herself.

One manufacturer immortalized Victoria’s image on a stoneware bottle that’s now prized by collectors. But the queen hated that her likeness appeared on a nursing bottle.

Besides a dislike, of nursing, there were other reasons for women to use baby bottles. Many women thought that nursing would destroy their figures. It also inhibited them socially since they couldn’t travel and leave the baby at home.

Fathers weren’t too keen on breast feeding, either, because doctors and midwives often advised mothers to refrain from sex during nursing.

Wealthier families employed wet nurses, usually young women who had a child and could nurse another. Since parents believed that a milk giver’s personality traits could be transferred to an infant through their milk, choosing the right one was important.

The ideal wet nurse was a plump rosy-cheeked young woman. Many people believed that red-headed girls gave bitter milk and produced ill-tempered babies. They even suspected animal milk, believing that infants took on the attributes of the cow or goat. French nobles gave the title of “contessa” to a wet nurse so that their infants could be nursed by milk of noble origin. Those who couldn’t afford to hire a wet nurse, turned to a variety of infant feeders, many of them unsafe by modern standards.

Though a china submarine-shaped bottle with blue transferware is beautiful, being completely opaque it was hard to clean. Fermenting milk curds could be lodged in the corners and mothers would never see them.

Charles M. Windship of Roxbury, Massachusetts, developed the first glass baby bottle, a small turtle shell-shaped: feeder, in 1841. Women thought the shape would fool their infants into thinking it was a real breast.

To use the Windship bottle, a woman wore it on a harness on her breast. It was probably difficult to use because girls with tender, post-childbirth breasts wouldn’t want to place any weight on their on top of them. Because of its shape, the Windship bottle became known as a mammary bottle. Today, they’re highly prized by collectors and sell for nearly $500 each.

But the Windship bottle wasn’t safe for the baby. The Windship and some subsequent bottles came with a long rubber tube, topped off with a rubber nipple. The tube allowed for hands-free feeding for mothers. These devices also had their problems. Dried formula would clog the tube which was too small to be cleaned, so bacteria blossomed. This feeder became known by the onerous name of the “murder bottle.” New York State banned them in 1906, and other states rapidly followed suit.

The turtle-shaped bottles, begun with the Windship model, remained in use from around 1860 to 1910. The bottles had vents, sometimes on both ends, so that air bubbles wouldn’t enter the milk. A nipple went on one end and a tiny cork on the other.

Most bottles became cylindrical by the beginning of the 20th century. Sterilization also became routine. And by the 1930s, bottle makers began embossing their glass bottles with puppies and kittens. These continued to be used until the invention of the disposable plastic bottle.