Saturday, 4 April 2026

Restoring an August Herrmann Room Box - Part One

I treated myself to a German room box in November last year. I knew nothing about it, but I have long had a hankering for one, and it was very reasonably priced.


It has clearly had a bit of a makeover at some point in its life. The interior papers are replacements, and the curtains are relatively modern.


Thankfully the paintwork is all original, including the lovely 'marble' pillars.


The rear of the box reveals that a second window in the larger room has been filled in — probably to provide more wall space for furniture placement inside. The window has been papered over on the inside, removing any doubt (if there were any) that the wallpaper in that room is not original.


A closer look at the doorway between the two rooms reveals that the wallpaper in the smaller room is pasted on top of the replacement paper in the larger room, so it must also be a replacement.

There are no identifying marks on the room box, so of course I scoured my reference books to see if I could come up with the name of the maker.


I was thrilled to find the same model in the Lexikon Der Puppenstuben und Puppenhäuser by Marianne Cieslik/Swantje Köhler (now out of print), where it was featured on a 1904 catalogue page from the German maker Aug. Herrmann Nachf. (catalogue no. 189/5), a wooden toy manufacturer based in Olbernhau/Erzgebirge.

According to the Lexikon, the company was founded in 1891 by Johann Gottfried August Herrmann. The 'Nachf.' part of the company's name is an abbreviation of 'Nachfolger', or successors.

I also found a lovely example of the room box here

I think the papers used in the box's makeover were well chosen, and I particularly like those in the smaller room. For that reason, I am hesitant about removing them in case there isn't much left of the originals underneath. However, I just wouldn't be me if I didn't have a little explore to see what I could find!


The floor papers had a couple of loose edges which I carefully lifted — they could easily be stuck down again — and I found that there were several layers of floor paper underneath. I've highlighted what appears to be the original bottom layer in both rooms, in red in the photo above.

The pattern isn't one that I'm familiar with, and I can already see from these explorations that it's not intact, so I will leave well alone. At least for now. 😉


My first job was to reinstate the missing window. This was easily done by carefully slicing through the wallpaper around the aperture with a sharp blade and giving the piece of wood filling it a good tap in the centre to remove it.


When I removed the modern curtains, I discovered that one of the original wooden pelmets was still in place (left above). It was disappointing that the others were missing, but at least I had one to make some copies from.

Then I realised that the moulding above the doorway into the other room was identical. This led me to believe that they had originally featured above each of the three windows and above the internal door on both sides.

Then, lo and behold, I realised that the windowsill in the larger room was also made from one of the original pelmets! I forgot to take a photo before I removed it, but since it was just wedged into the bottom of the window aperture and not glued, it came off without any damage to the wallpaper.


Sadly, it had been adapted to fit into the window.

Nevertheless, this left me with three original pelmets. Another good look at the August Herrmann catalogue page confirmed that this was actually how many the room box had originally — one above each of the three windows and none above the internal door.

Great, I could work with that!


First I removed the pelmet from above the internal door — I did my best to keep damage to the wallpaper to a minimum, but I'll still have to disguise the mark it left at some point. Then it was a fairly simple job to cut, glue and shape some blocks of balsa wood to fill the missing parts of the mutilated pelmet.

I sanded both pelmets down and stained them to match the original oak colour of the untouched one in the larger room. I then reinstated the complete pelmet above the other window in that room and the repaired one in the smaller room, where I think the repair is less obvious. At this point I should have taken a photo of my progress, but I clean forgot. 🙃


I also removed the plain modern mouldings which had been used above the internal door and as a windowsill in the small room, again, limiting damage to the wallpaper as far as possible.

Unfortunately, throughout all of these alterations, I found no traces of any original wallpapers under the replacement ones in either room.


The internal door of the room box illustrated in the August Herrmann catalogue isn't visible, but from what I can see from those that are, I don't think mine is original. Certainly the door handles aren't.

I will leave it for now but at some point I will probably look to remove the handles and think about how to improve it.

Next, with the pelmets refurbished and reinstated, I was able to get to work making some curtains.


I had this lovely old cotton fabric in my stash. It came to me from a friend and fellow dolls' house collector in Germany. I think it works a treat with the wallpaper in this room.


I was struggling to find just the right colour and fabric type for the larger room until I stumbled across the most hideous pair of cotton velvet trousers in a charity shop. Trust me, hideous isn't an exaggeration — they ballooned out, and the ankles had cuffs with buttons for goodness' sake! They look much better as curtains.


So there we have it, progress so far. There is still much to do — namely restoring the window frames and glazing, adding windowsills, and disguising the damage to the wallpaper above the internal door.

Once all that's done, I can start on the fun part of adding furniture and accessories. There was an odd little assortment of furniture with the room box when I bought it, both older and more recent pieces. Certainly some of the older pieces will be reused. Watch this space...

Until next time,
Zoe

Saturday, 10 January 2026

A Handicrafts Calendar and a Handmade Wax Picture

Sometimes there is no rhyme or reason to why something particularly floats your boat, is there?

One such item is a little Handicrafts calendar kindly given to me by a friend earlier this week. I'd never seen one before and was immediately taken with it.


The calendar measures just 4cm square. Judging by its long forked tail, I think the bird depicted on the front is a swallow—very apt with its associations with the changing of the seasons and the arrival of summer here in the UK.


 The Handicrafts logo and factory address are printed on the back.

Inside, is a neat little month-to-a-page calendar for 1929. It's in amazing condition considering that it's 97 years old!

Given its diminutive size, my guess would be that it was made to tuck into a wallet and would have been given away to customers and/or suppliers.

But of course it's also perfect for a dolls' house.

I've looped it onto the string from a Christmas gift tag—never throw anything away!—and have hung it on the wall in the bay window office of Agar Hall (the Tri-ang No. 82 wing) where I'm sure it will prove useful to the Grecon owner-managers Joyce and Rabbie.

Of course, if I was being pedantic about it, the No. 82 wasn't produced until 1933 at the earliest, so a 1929 calendar is a complete anachronism, but hey ho!—time does has a habit of warping now and then in my dolls' houses.

_________________________________

Another new arrival this week that I'm particularly chuffed with is this lovely little wax picture:


I'm very drawn to the cheerful splash of colour created by the lovely lemon and orange daisies. It looks very 1930s to me—reminiscent of the barbola decorative work popular at that time—but I really don't know how old it actually is.


Judging by the back of it, it does at least have some age.

There is also a little label that says "Wax picture hand made". I love the fact that it's made from wax - how clever!


It has also gone into my Tri-ang No. 82, where I've hung it on the back wall of the grand staircase.


The original wallpaper in the hallway and on the staircase of this house is awful - I don't know what they were thinking in the Tri-ang factory when they used it. Maybe it's supposed to look like wood panelling. Whatever the case, it's dark and dingy and very much in need of a pop of colour, so just the right place for the new picture.

Until next time,
Zoe

Copyright © 2016 Zoe Handy. All rights reserved.

Thursday, 4 December 2025

Blog Excitement!

There was a wee flurry of excitement here last week when I had a guest blog published on the Reading Museum's website. It's not the most astounding achievement, I know, but it's a first for me and I have to admit to being a bit chuffed.


I was asked if I would like to write the blog after a discovery I made connected to some research I was doing last year into Queen Mary's Dolls' House replica miniatures.

The biggest challenge was keeping the blog under the required eight-hundred-word limit - I hadn't realised just how verbose I am! Nor how short eight hundred words actually is—I've written 125 so far in this post!

What I found was that I could either make it very long — providing a bit of background about each aspect — or very short — keeping it pretty much to the bare facts. Anything in between was impossible! So it was certainly a useful lesson in being concise...

It ended up at ...476 words, in case you're wondering!

Until next time,
Zoe

Tuesday, 11 November 2025

My Lucky Glass Spaniel Find

I went to York Dolls' House Fair on Sunday with my friend Jenny - an excellent day out with a lot of lovely purchases. BUT, my absolute favourite find of the day was lurking inconspicuously in a rummage box and cost me the grand sum £2!

I couldn't believe it when I spotted this gorgeous little glass Blenheim (tan and white) Cavalier King Charles spaniel.

Yes, she's been through the wars and has technically lost her tail and her legs, but lying there on that comfy sofa, I choose to believe she has tucked them all under, as they are wont to do. More importantly, at least to me, her face and ears have absolutely no chips. And let's face it, for £2, well...

There is a particular reason why I was so excited to find her: it's because I fell in love with an almost identical example in a miniature shop display full of glassware in Ilkley Toy Museum when I visited it in 2017.

Above is a screenshot from the blog I wrote after that first visit to the toy museum. So you can see how hard I fell. I have been back several times since and my passion has never dimmed, so how amazing that eight years later I have my own version to cherish!

I've never come across another example and I'd love to know who made her and when exactly she dates to. When I searched online (including a reverse image search) I found only one similar example - a pair of glass spaniels mounted on a bare wooden plinth (similar to the one in Ilkley Museum) which had been listed on Etsy and were described as dating to the 1950s, but I have no idea how accurate that dating is.

If you happen to know more about these charming glass miniatures, I'd love to hear from you either in the comments section below or via the Contact Form on the right hand side of the page.


And finally, here we have the reason I fell in love with the one in Ilkley Toy Museum in the first place: my own real-life (mostly) Cavalier cutie!

Until next time,
Zoe

Friday, 16 May 2025

Charles Twelvetrees Wedding Series Postcards - The Bride and The Groom

This post isn’t particularly ‘on topic’ but it’s about two lovely postcards from 1915 which I found while out and about hunting for minis yesterday with my friend Jenny.

 

I don’t collect postcards but I found the illustrations and messages on these ones so appealing that I was compelled to buy them.

Attributions in small print along the bottom of the facing side tell us that the illustrations were painted by CH Twelvetrees and copyrighted to Edward Gross Co., New York.

A quick Google informed me that Charles H. Twelvetrees (1872-1948) is well-known among postcard collectors for his illustrations of chubby-cheeked children, often shown with funny captions.

The cards are from the Wedding Series which consisted of:
  • The Bride (caption: God Bless Her)
  • The Groom (caption: God Help Him)
  • The Minister (caption: Solemn and Workmanlike)
  • The Mother in Law (caption: But A Very Nice One)
  • The Bridesmaid (caption: Sweet as Peachblossom)
  • The Best Man (caption: No Wedding Bells for Him)

As well as the lovely illustrations and the cheeky message accompanying  the picture of the groom, I love the fact that the two cards were sent by the same person and have stayed together now for a hundred and ten years.

Both cards are postmarked 7th November 1915 and feature a halfpenny stamp bearing the head of King George V (husband of Queen Mary, she of the famous dolls’ house).

The sender was someone called Bella and the cards were sent to a Mr and Mrs Cook at separate addresses.


Mrs Cook’s card was sent to her at her parents’ address - 74 Tilery Road, Stockton on Tees (County Durham).

Mr Cook, who we can see was a Private in 107 Field Ambulance: Royal Army Medical Corps, was stationed at Sling Camp, Salisbury Plain (Wiltshire) and his card was sent there. This was, of course, during WW1 (1914-18).


I knew I had to find out who these folk were and luckily, via my Ancestry.com account, I was able to identify them relatively easily.

Private Robert Henry Cook (b. 23.06.1890) married Jane Allon (b. 13.09.1891) in Stockton-on-Tees on the 31 October, 1915, so just a week before these postcards were sent.

Jane Allon had a younger sister called Isabella Harper Allon who I think is likely to be the sender ‘Bella’.

The message from Bella to Jane reads:
“I am not going to write to you until you write to me. I just want to tell you that Mrs Dinsdale never got any wedding cake so I hope you will send some.
Have you heard the [sic] Lillie Whitehead and Ernie Hudson are married? I am surprised that Mrs Whitehead gave her consent. Have just written to Bob, I had a letter from him this morning.
Love from Bella”
The message from Bella to Robert (or “Bob”) reads:
“Hope you like this. I am not sending it in the letter as I think it would weigh too much.
Love from Bella”
It was lovely to learn from my research that Robert made it safely through the war and the couple went on to have two children together.

Robert became an ambulance man for County Durham Steel & Iron Co. steel rolling mills (Malleable Ironworks, Stockton) and they lived in Stockton-on-Tees until their deaths: Robert in 1969 and Jane in 1977.

I even found photos of Robert and Jane in later life (on Ancestry.com) in which they look very happy together. 💕

I’ve no idea why I felt that I had to buy these cards, but I do know that I’m very glad I did!

Until next time,
Zoe

P.S. There was a Mrs Dinsdale living in the same street (Tilery Road) as Jane’s parents in the 1911 Census, so perhaps this is the lady who hadn’t received any wedding cake. The Lillie Whitehead and Ernie Hudson mentioned in Jane’s card have eluded me (thus far!) 

Wednesday, 10 July 2024

My Antique Scottish Dolls’ House - A Look at its History

In January 2019 I became the very happy owner of this neglected but nevertheless grand old dolls' house.

The Day of Arrival

The house came with written provenance and until late 2018 it had been in the same family for at least 160 years.

The notes and family tree accompanying the house (written by a member of the long line of family owners) provided the following information:
"It is thought this Dolls' House was made for 2 sisters, (1st cousins of Alexander Wedderburn K.C.) in about 1850-1860."
It's my dream scenario with an old dolls' house to know the names of the lucky children who first played with it, so I immediately set out to identify these two sisters. It didn't take me long to hit a stumbling block.

As Alexander Wedderburn K.C was a member of the British peerage and his wife was named as Mathilde Segelke in the notes, it was easy to discover that he was Alexander Dundas Ogilvy Wedderburn K.C., born 1854. (To keep things simple I'll refer to him simply as 'Alexander' from here on.)

Excellent. Next to find the two sisters. To be Alexander's first cousins, they would have to be the children of his uncles or aunts. This is where I met a difficulty.


As this section of the family tree I've drawn shows, Alexander only had one female first cousin - Helen Margaret Ogilvy Wedderburn (I'll refer to her simply as Helen from here on).

Of course Alexander could also have first cousins from his mother's side of the family, however another delve into his ancestry revealed that his mother was an only child, so no uncles or aunts there to provide first cousins.

So was the house made for first cousin Helen alone? She was born in 1857 which would fit with the dates in the notes. But then where did this idea of two sisters come from? An idea which has presumably been passed down with the dolls' house for more than a century and a half.

I have a theory which suggested itself to me when I was looking to see where Helen might have lived when the house was made for her, if indeed it was

The 1861 Scotland Census shows that when Helen was three years old, she, her parents, and her brother John, were living with her paternal grandmother Helen Wedderburn (nee Ogilvy - I will refer to her as 'Helen senior' from here on) who was 'head of household', her husband John Wedderburn having died in 1839. Interestingly though, there was another person living with them and this was Helen senior's older sister Lady Mary Ogilvy.

So here we had two sisters living in the house with Alexander Wedderburn K.C.'s first cousin Helen: her grandmother (born 1798) and her great-aunt (born c1792). Was the dolls' house made for these two sisters?

There were actually five sisters amongst Helen senior and Lady Mary's eleven siblings and if the dolls' house had been made for them, then it can easily be imagined that it ended up with the youngest two, Helen and Mary. Or it might simply have been made specifically for the two youngest.

And if the dolls' house was in Helen senior's house when Alexander's first cousin Helen was living with her aged three, she would surely have had the opportunity to look at or perhaps even play with it. 

When Helen senior and Lady Mary died within a few months of each other in 1868, when Helen was aged eleven, it follows that the dolls' house would have been bequeathed to her as Helen senior's granddaughter from her eldest son and particularly as Lady Mary had never married and therefore had no direct descendants.

It can also easily be imagined that after the house was later passed to Alexander's line of the family, at some point as it went down that line, the knowledge that it was made for those two sisters might have become conflated with the knowledge that it came to Alexander's line through his first cousin Helen.

If all of this were so, then the house would actually date to c1780-1800! Of course I have asked myself whether the house itself - its architecture and its original interior decor - would fit with this theory. I am no expert on houses of those dates but, as I will cover in a separate blog post, my feeling is that it really could be that old, though I will seek further advice on the matter.

One outcome of the earlier dating would be a need to rethink the name of the house. I have been calling it Wedderburn House, but if my theory were to prove correct then it would be more accurate to call it Ogilvy House, since that was the family name of Mary and Helen when it was made.

The [Possibly Irrelevant] Question of Where 1st Cousin Helen Lived


Going back a step, I mentioned that I was looking to see where Helen (Alexander Wedderburn K.C.'s first cousin) might have lived when the house was made, if it was made for her. The 1861 Scotland Census transcript gives Helen senior's address (where first cousin Helen was living with her family) as "Rosebank Rd" in the civil parish of "Lasswade" in the county of "Midlothian" (Scotland). The census also states that she was born in "Roslin, Edinburgh.

It's odd that no house name or number is given for "Rosebank Rd" as this information would usually be noted and I wonder if perhaps there has been some sort of error in transcription. Perhaps it was "Rosebank Ho" as in 'House' and not "Rosebank Rd"? Unfortunately the original document isn't available to view online so I can't check.

Rosebank House Roslin c 1910

My research did turn up this photo of Rosebank House, Roslin (demolished in 1950) and both Lady Mary and her sister Helen are recorded as having died at Rosebank, Roslin (both in 1868). There is a Rosebank Road to the north of Edinburgh, but Roslin is 7 miles is to the south of Edinburgh, so there is an element of uncertainty.

In any case, by the time of the 1871 Scotland Census, Helen is thirteen and living with her parents and brother at Liberton House in the civil parish of Liberton in Midlothian. This also states her place of birth as "Roslin" but in later Censuses it is spelled "Rosslyn", an alternative spellings of Roslin (also Roslyn).

Of course, all of this may be quite irrelevant if the house was made for the Ogilvy sisters two generations earlier!

The [Possibly More Relevant] Question of Where the Two Sisters Mary and Helen Lived


So if  the dolls' house was made for the two sisters Lady Mary and Helen senior, where would they have been living at the time?

According to the Scotland Census records, both sisters were born in Balnaboth, Forfarshire in 1792 and 1798 respectively. Their parents were Walter Ogilvy and Jean Ogilvy, and the family seems to have been living at Balnaboth for some time prior to Mary and Helen's births, so it seems likely that this is where the dolls' house was made.

Balnaboth is near Kirrimuir, Angus (Scotland) which is about twenty miles directly north of Dundee. If this was where the dolls' house first came into being, it is likely to have been made by either an estate carpenter or a local carpenter who worked for the estate.

Regardless of whether the house was made 160 years ago, or 230 years ago, at least one thing seems reasonably certain, and that is that the house started life in Scotland.

From First Cousin Helen to Alexander Wedderbank's Line


So, on to the next leg of the dolls' house's journey. The notes accompanying it tell us that from Alexander's first cousin[s]...
"It then was passed to Peggy Wedderburn (later De La Rue & then Sutton), and to her daughter Griselda." 


This section of family tree I've drawn shows that journey (the broken red arrows).

First cousin Helen (who never married) had no children, neither did her younger brother John. Her youngest brother Charles did marry but not until 1898 and her only niece wasn't born until 1904 (when Charles was forty and Helen forty-seven). 

In the meantime, Helen's first cousin Alexander had his daughter, Margaret Griselda, known as Peggy, in 1888 and the dolls' house was passed to her from Helen.

The house then passed to Peggy's daughter, Ann Griselda, who was born in 1918.

From Griselda to Cousin Clarissa


The notes accompanying the dolls' house continue:

"Alister & Cynthia then had it for their daughters. Clarissa remembers playing with it at Elm tree Cottage in Willingdon, Sussex at the age of 3,4,5,6. It spent the war years in the barn of Parsonage Farm, East Hagbourne, Berkshire."

This section of family tree I've drawn shows this part of the journey as the house went to Alister for his daughters. 

Luckily the family tree accompanying the house identified 'Alister' as Alexander Henry Melvill Wedderburn, Griselda's uncle (son of Alexander Wedderburn K.C.). Alister was married to Cynthia (nee Lubbock).

Alister and Cynthia had three daughters and Clarissa (the eldest) was born in 1925, so when the notes say that she remembers playing with the house at the "age of 3,4,5,6" this would have been 1928-1931 and the subsequent war years referred to were WWII.

The youngest sister, Olivia, was born in 1934, and when the war finished in 1945 she would have been age eleven. Clarissa would have been twenty.

From Clarissa to her Granddaughter Adelaide

The note accompanying the house (which is the first of two) concludes:

"In 1957 it was bequeathed to Clarissa & went to North End, Bledsoe, Bedfordshire, later to Bridge House, Great Barford, Beds, & to The Chantry, Great Barford, Beds, giving endless pleasure to countless children. 1992 given to Adam and Katie Robinson for Adelaide"


This section of family tree I've drawn shows the house's journey from Clarissa to her granddaughter Adelaide.

The family tree which accompanies the house shows that Clarissa married twice; firstly to "Ursuley", with whom she had two children; and secondly, in 1955 she married James Robinson after which she had a further three children, including Adam.

As the note says, Adam and his wife Katherine (Katy) Adelaide (nee Harben) were given the dolls' house in 1992 for their daughter Adelaide. It would seem from this that the dolls' house was in Clarissa's life for about sixty-four years (though in storage for part of that), including thirty-five in her later adult life.

From Adelaide to Eliza


Up until this point the house's journey had been relatively easy to follow. From here on however, it got trickier.

The two notes accompanying the dolls' house appear to have been written by the same hand and the second note, dated 7th April, 2012 is signed "Tonia":
"This dolls house was at Grandma's* house when I was little. I could only look at the top floor by standing on my tip toes.. Nolly's* bedroom was on the right.. she gave us sweeties that must have been 100 years old, like her! Adam & Katie moved to South Africa, so the dolls house came to me. Adelaide & Tilda had a fab time playing with it & when they were too big for it it came to Eliza Robinson for safekeeping... Love Tonia

Adam is my half uncle & a cousin too! *Grandma is Clarissa Robinson & *Nolly was my Great Granny."

From the note's content and tone, I am assuming that it was written to Eliza Robinson by Tonia when she was passing the house on to her.

The next step was to find Tonia's full name and to place her in the family tree.

A business name on the back of the note led me to discover Antonia’s  married name and from that I was able to discover her maiden name, Antonia Robinson, which is what I’ll stick to here.


Fitting Antonia into the family tree wasn’t quite so easy but this section of family tree which I've drawn (in green if you have good eyesight!) shows where I believe she sits in it and two things point to this…

Firstly, I know from the family tree accompanying the dolls' house that Clarissa's two children from her first marriage were called Michael and Antony and an announcement of Antonia's engagement in The Times names her father as Anthony (though no surname given is given in the digitised version available online). Secondly, Antonia mentions that Adam is her half-uncle, so it would seem to follow that her father has to be one of Adam's half-brothers.

The fact that Antonia mentions that Adam is also a cousin is probably a clue too, but I have to confess that my brain will not find its way around that one! The next statement that "Grandma is Clarissa Robinson & Nolly was my Great Granny", may (or may not) have been intended to clarify this point but since I don't know who Nolly was it doesn't help me - Antonia would have had four great grannys, though my best guess is that she's referring to Clarissa's mother, Cynthia, who was born in 1899 and lived until 1986, so not quite a hundred years old but that reference may not have been meant to be taken literally.

I did wonder if “Ursuley” and James Robinson might have been brothers, though The Peerage does not confirm this. The Peerage is unswerving in referring only to members of the British peerage and Clarissa’s first marriage is not mentioned, which in itself suggests that “Ursuley” and James were not brothers. Nor is “Ursuley” listed in The Peerage as a child of James’ father, so this theory would seem dead in the water.

As an aside, I'd love to know what "Nollys bedroom was on the right" referred to. A room on the right in the dolls' house? If so, what could that mean? Or does it refer to a room on the right in a real life property somewhere?

The note confirms that the house was then passed from Antonia to her niece Eliza Robinson.

The Sting in the Tail

The reason I know that Eliza is Antonia’s niece (the daughter of one of her brothers) is because I managed to make contact with a member of the family. I had hoped that in doing so I would be able to fill in some of the blanks and complete the picture in terms of the house’s journey to me. 

Unfortunately, this didn’t go to plan. But that’s another story and one which it has taken me over six months to recover my equilibrium from*. Maybe I will post about it another time, but suffice for now to say that sadly that line of enquiry is no longer an option.

What I do know for certain is that as the latest guardian of this venerable dolls' house, I will take my responsibilities very seriously. The task of removing several layers of paint to reveal the original is already underway and I will post a progress update in due course.

Until next time,
Zoe

*During which time, I removed the original version of this post, which is why some of you will recognise it from last July.

Friday, 17 May 2024

Fern Cottage Piano

I've been giving Fern Cottage a light clean today and have repaired the slight damage to the piano in the parlour.

Though it’s simply made, it’s an interesting piano and, never one to resist a rabbit hole, I had to find out more about it.


T’internet tells me that it’s a tall upright cabinet piano of the type popular in the early 19th century. I did recognise it as being similar to the one in the Brontë family parsonage in Haworth, North Yorkshire.


The pleated silk back section is a nice detail. As is the sheet music on it - “Bob and Joan” written for the “Melodeon, Concertina and…” the piano? Probably not, but we won’t dwell on that! 

Obviously, more of my afternoon was frittered away as I learned that ‘Bob and Joan’ is an old traditional folk tune!

I do love how this hobby takes you to unexpected places!

Until next time,

Zoe