Object of the Day: A Trade Card for Pyle’s Pearline

We are not given to enthusiasm over many of these new ideals, but a fair trial will convince the most skeptical of the merits of Pearline.

James Pyle, of English descent, in the Nineteenth Century, settled in New York City.  Towering at six feet, five inches tall, Pyle was always interested in fragrances and invented a granulated soap which he called “Pyle’s Pearline,” manufacturing out of a factory in New York’s Grenwhich Village.  The Pyle Family has a long and strange history ranging from being banished from the U.S. after being “loyalists” during the American Revolution to a curious association with “Padre Pio,”  the priest who became famous for his constantly-bleeding “stigmata.”

Here, we see a Victorian-era trade card for Pyle’s Pearline.  The obverse depicts a rosy-cheeked child draped in white.  The child is holding a wide-eyed cat adorned with a bright pink ribbon.  Above this image reads:  “HAIL—GREAT INVENTION, WOMAN’S KINDEST FRIEND, PEARLINE HAS BROUGHT THY DRUDGERY TO AN END.”

On the reverse—a series of words are connected to a giant letter “P.”  It reads:

PYLE’S

PEARLINE

POSSESSES

PECULIAR

PURIFYING

PROPERTIES.

PRESS AND

PUBLIC

PRONOUNCE

PEARLINE

PERFECT.

PRUDENT

PEOPLE

PURCHASE

PYLE’S

PEARLINE.

Sold by all grocers.

James Pyle, New York.

From the Christian Intelligencer, N.Y.

We take pleasure in recommending to our readers an article which has in the last five years done more than anything we recall at the present, to relieve the hardest of woman’s work of much of its toil and drudgery.  We refer to James Pyle’s Pearline Washing Compound.  The immense consumption of this article is sufficient proof of its utility, and experience has taught us that it is far superior to soap.  We are not given to enthusiasm over many of these new ideals, but a fair trial will convince the most skeptical of the merits of Pearline. 

My investigation as to a familial connection with Goober and Gomer Pyle is still ongoing.

The Art of Play: Child's Novelty Soap, "Smile and Cry," c. 1930

Scary Soap
Shaped Like a Baby's Head
Made by Norton's, England, 1930-39
The Victoria & Albert Museum

Who doesn’t love the gift of soap?  I remember, as a child, always being overjoyed upon being presented with the ever-so-thoughtful gift of soap—especially novelty soap.  I mean, really, what kid doesn’t just squeal with delight at the thought of washing with a nice, cloudy piece of soap in the shape of…SOMETHING…ANYTHING!  (Reading all these antique trade cards has awakened a new love of caps in me).  Now, imagine this—it’s Christmas (or Chanukah) and you’re atwitter, about to open a shiny present.  You tear off the paper and there it is!  Soap!  Soap shaped like a baby’s head!  Whoo hooo! Mama, run me a bath.  I’m gonna clean myself with a baby’s head!

Okay, soap was not a favorite gift.  It’s nobody’s favorite gift.  Even as a kid, I preferred diamonds, limited-edition paperweights and antique silver.  But, I do recall having been given novelty soap as a child.  I don’t recall exactly what it was shaped like, but I remember being given soap.  Who the heck wants birthday soap?

Nevertheless, the novelty soap business has been around for many years.  Some of it, even, has ended up in museums.  For example, here’s some creepy soap which dates between 1930 and 1939.  It’s in the V&A, and, yes, it’s shaped like a baby’s head.  Not, just any baby’s head, mind you, but a TWO-FACED baby’s head.  Shudder…

This child's novelty soap came as a set with a “flannel” (in America, a washcloth) and it is still set in its original box.  The soap is flesh-colored (ick) and depicts the head of a baby.  On one side it has a smiling face, on the other, it is crying (gag).

 
The flannel is made of white cotton with a looped pile.  It is machine hemmed in bright pink thread.   To make this all the more disturbing, the flannel was originally presented wrapped around the soap to give the effect of a baby's face looking out from its blankie!  Oh, for fun!

The box consists of taupe card covered with white paper printed in pink, grey and blue with designs of children, toys etc.   Pictures of toys = good times, I suppose.

This choice gift was made in England by Norton’s.  It remains to this day in pristine condition.  Do you know why?  Because NOBODY WANTS TO WASH WITH A BABY’S HEAD!

Object of the Day: A Trade Card for Soap

Click image to enlarge.

Here’s a very handsome die-cut trade card in the shape of an artist’s palette. This will now be the third in my collection. As was the case with the others, this one depicts the palette as if it had been painted with a scene using the paints thereon.

This one shows a lad with a fishing pole, wading through a creek. I don’t know why he needs the pole since he’s already stepping on any fish he might need.

What sets this card apart is the fact that this one was designed for a specific business. The name of the company is not over-printed, but rather, is part of the artwork.

The card was made for D.S.B & Co. of New York who bill themselves as:

SOAP MAKERS & PERFUMERS.

Let’s see what the reverse says.

Well, I can see that the initials stand for D.S. Brown.

It reads:

Presented 

by 

D.S. BROWN

and 

COMPANY 

NEW YORK 

-->who<-- nbsp="" span="">

MANUFACTURE THE 

Largest & most 

Complete line of 

TOILET SOAPS 

in the country. 

Also a fine line of 

TOILET EXTRACTS 

LAWN LILAC 

“—a special!”

Object of the Day: A Trade Card for Acme Soap

Click on the image to be uplifted.

I would, personally, be very upset if—while showering or, even, washing dishes or clothes—whatever soap I had employed became so frothy and lathery that it lifted me up off of the ground. I think it would be terrifying and upsetting.

This little fellow, however, seems delighted by it. But, that’s okay because, it appears that he has fallen down a well. Not a dry well, either—a well full of water. So, in this instance, I suppose that being elevated by soap would be preferable to drowning.

Conveniently, the well’s cranky-thing says, “Use Acme.” I guess that’s what gave the girl the idea to toss her brother the bar of Acme Soap to save his life—as opposed to, say, a rope or something. Thankfully, she either had some soap or the well’s owner leaves a convenient basket of it outside. Still, oddly enough, she seems surprised that her plan worked.

She asks, “Why is the foam bringing him up?” Well, Honey, why’d you toss him a bar of soap?

She also doesn’t seem to notice that the words, “The Best Bar Soap Made” float ominously near her head.

Though I joke, I think this is actually a beautiful card. It has all the things that I like about trade cards—the fine printing, the charming images, the brilliant, very-Victorian colors, and, yes, a little weirdness.

What sets this trade card apart from the others in my collection is that on the reverse, there’s not the usual florid ad copy, but a space to use the card as a receipt. Acme Soap provided these cards to retailers who would employ the cards to keep a tally of a customers’ purchases.

This one says:

USE 

LAUTZ BRO’S & CO’S 

ACME SOAP. 

CUT FULL POUNDS. 

THE BEST BAR SOAP MADE. 

And, on the bottom…
The very best materials are used in the
manufacture of this soap. 

Apparently, this card was going to be used to record the purchases of “Edna” who, it seems bought nothing. 

Object of the Day: A Trade Card for Jas. S. Kirk & Co

Click Image to Mottle the Soap

When I noticed this trade card in a stack of ephemera I’d just bought, I thought it was attractive, if not wholly German. The more I studied it, however, the more curious I found it. The card depicts two little people (I can’t say with certainty that they’re children) holding German flags and dressed in the country’s colors. That’s fine and dandy. Let’s look a little further.

The card advertises for

JAS. S. KIRK & CO.
SOAP MAKERS 
                                           CHICAGO.
“MOTTLED GERMAN” 

In 1887, Procter & Gamble began cracking down on other soap makers who advertised Mottled German Soap, claiming that they were the first to copyright the idea. So, other companies had to use other arrangements of the words so as not to bother P&G. Hence, Kirk’s use of “Mottled German.” To be honest, I’m not sure what mottled German soap is, but I don’t know how pleasant it sounds.

This card was quite well-received by the public and the design is the one which seems most often identified with the James Kirk Soap Company. It boldly went where no ther trade card went before.

Let’s look at the reverse. It wasn’t printed. However, there’s a curious stamp on it. Stamped in gold ink, we have an undecipherable name (Bill or Balls or something). And, then, “Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York.” Hmmmm… Was this card once in the collection of the Metropolitan Museum? Unlikely. Was it owned by someone who worked for “The Met”? More likely. If anyone has any idea what that stamp might indicate, I’d be pleased to know.

Object of the Day: A Trade Card for Jas. S. Kirk & Co

Click Image to Mottle the Soap

When I noticed this trade card in a stack of ephemera I’d just bought, I thought it was attractive, if not wholly German. The more I studied it, however, the more curious I found it. The card depicts two little people (I can’t say with certainty that they’re children) holding German flags and dressed in the country’s colors. That’s fine and dandy. Let’s look a little further.

The card advertises for

JAS. S. KIRK & CO.
SOAP MAKERS 
                                           CHICAGO.
“MOTTLED GERMAN” 

In 1887, Procter & Gamble began cracking down on other soap makers who advertised Mottled German Soap, claiming that they were the first to copyright the idea. So, other companies had to use other arrangements of the words so as not to bother P&G. Hence, Kirk’s use of “Mottled German.” To be honest, I’m not sure what mottled German soap is, but I don’t know how pleasant it sounds.

This card was quite well-received by the public and the design is the one which seems most often identified with the James Kirk Soap Company. It boldly went where no ther trade card went before.

Let’s look at the reverse. It wasn’t printed. However, there’s a curious stamp on it. Stamped in gold ink, we have an undecipherable name (Bill or Balls or something). And, then, “Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York.” Hmmmm… Was this card once in the collection of the Metropolitan Museum? Unlikely. Was it owned by someone who worked for “The Met”? More likely. If anyone has any idea what that stamp might indicate, I’d be pleased to know.

Object of the Day: A Trade Card for Acme Soap

Click on the image to be uplifted.

I would, personally, be very upset if—while showering or, even, washing dishes or clothes—whatever soap I had employed became so frothy and lathery that it lifted me up off of the ground. I think it would be terrifying and upsetting.

This little fellow, however, seems delighted by it. But, that’s okay because, it appears that he has fallen down a well. Not a dry well, either—a well full of water. So, in this instance, I suppose that being elevated by soap would be preferable to drowning.

Conveniently, the well’s cranky-thing says, “Use Acme.” I guess that’s what gave the girl the idea to toss her brother the bar of Acme Soap to save his life—as opposed to, say, a rope or something. Thankfully, she either had some soap or the well’s owner leaves a convenient basket of it outside. Still, oddly enough, she seems surprised that her plan worked.

She asks, “Why is the foam bringing him up?” Well, Honey, why’d you toss him a bar of soap?

She also doesn’t seem to notice that the words, “The Best Bar Soap Made” float ominously near her head.

Though I joke, I think this is actually a beautiful card. It has all the things that I like about trade cards—the fine printing, the charming images, the brilliant, very-Victorian colors, and, yes, a little weirdness.

What sets this trade card apart from the others in my collection is that on the reverse, there’s not the usual florid ad copy, but a space to use the card as a receipt. Acme Soap provided these cards to retailers who would employ the cards to keep a tally of a customers’ purchases.

This one says:

USE 

LAUTZ BRO’S & CO’S 

ACME SOAP. 

CUT FULL POUNDS. 

THE BEST BAR SOAP MADE. 

And, on the bottom…

The very best materials are used in the
manufacture of this soap. 

Apparently, this card was going to be used to record the purchases of “Edna” who, it seems bought nothing. 

Object of the Day, Caption Contest: "Welcome Soap," c. 1887

Click on image to welcome the soap.

Welcome Soap.

I never realized that soap needed to be greeted. But, this card from Curtis, Davis and Co. makes it very clear that soap tends to want a little pomp and ceremony when it arrives. Who knew?

I have no idea what’s happening here. Is the “Welcome Soap” box/sign directed at the androgynous gent who is greeting the regal looking girl? Or is he proposing marriage? Either way, he doesn’t look like he’s made out of soap. He’s got a horn, and a hat, and a long green cloak, and false eyelashes, but no soap. The dogs are very happy about it, too. Funny—Bertie never gets excited about soap. Quite the opposite. Even the horses are thrilled.

To be fair, Welcome Soap was a brand, not a greeting. This soap powder by Curtis, Davis & Co. was quite popular in the late Nineteenth Century. Launched in 1887 (around the time this card was produced), the soap came in bottles. James Mellen of Cambridge, Massachusetts, who trademarked the name for the firm in 1887 admitted in the Trademark documents (which I happened to find online) that the choice of the word “Welcome” for the brand was purely arbitrary.

It’s actually a rather handsome card with those gorgeous, rich, brilliant colors which make these Nineteenth Century chromolithographs so appealing to me. It’s just that the scene is theatrically bizarre. But, again, most of these cards are rather odd—and, again, that’s why I like them. 

So, let’s have a caption contest. You know how it works. Put your ideas in the comments section.  

Object of the Day: A Trade Card for Soap

Click image to enlarge.

Here’s another die-cut trade card in the shape of an artist’s palette. This will now be the third in my collection. As was the case with the others, this one depicts the palette as if it had been painted with a scene using the paints thereon.

This one shows a lad with a fishing pole, wading through a creek. I don’t know why he needs the pole since he’s already stepping on any fish he might need.

What sets this card apart is the fact that this one was designed for a specific business. The name of the company is not over-printed, but rather, is part of the artwork.

The card was made for D.S.B & Co. of New York who bill themselves as:

SOAP MAKERS & PERFUMERS.

Let’s see what the reverse says.

Well, I can see that the initials stand for D.S. Brown.

It reads:

Presented 

by 

D.S. BROWN

and 

COMPANY 

NEW YORK 

-->who<-- 

MANUFACTURE THE 

Largest & most 

Complete line of 

TOILET SOAPS 

in the country. 

Also a fine line of 

TOILET EXTRACTS 

LAWN LILAC 

“—a special!”

The Art of Play: Child's Novelty Soap, "Smile and Cry," c. 1930

Scary Soap
Shaped Like a Baby's Head
Made by Norton's, England, 1930-39
The Victoria & Albert Museum

Who doesn’t love the gift of soap?  I remember, as a child, always being overjoyed upon being presented with the ever-so-thoughtful gift of soap—especially novelty soap.  I mean, really, what kid doesn’t just squeal with delight at the thought of washing with a nice, cloudy piece of soap in the shape of…SOMETHING…ANYTHING!  (Reading all these antique trade cards has awakened a new love of caps in me).  Now, imagine this—it’s Christmas (or Chanukah) and you’re atwitter, about to open a shiny present.  You tear off the paper and there it is!  Soap!  Soap shaped like a baby’s head!  Whoo hooo!  Mama, run me a bath.  I’m gonna clean myself with a baby’s head!

Okay, soap was not a favorite gift.  It’s nobody’s favorite gift.  Even as a kid, I preferred diamonds, limited-edition paperweights and antique silver.  But, I do recall having been given novelty soap as a child.  I don’t recall exactly what it was shaped like, but I remember being given soap.  Who the heck wants birthday soap?

Nevertheless, the novelty soap business has been around for many years.  Some of it, even, has ended up in museums.  For example, here’s some creepy soap which dates between 1930 and 1939.  It’s in the V&A, and, yes, it’s shaped like a baby’s head.  Not, just any baby’s head, mind you, but a TWO-FACED baby’s head.  Shudder…

This child's novelty soap came as a set with a “flannel” (in America, a washcloth) and it is still set in its original box.  The soap is flesh-colored (ick) and depicts the head of a baby.  On one side it has a smiling face, on the other, it is crying (gag).

 
The flannel is made of white cotton with a looped pile.  It is machine hemmed in bright pink thread.   To make this all the more disturbing, the flannel was originally presented wrapped around the soap to give the effect of a baby's face looking out from its blankie!  Oh, for fun!

The box consists of taupe card covered with white paper printed in pink, grey and blue with designs of children, toys etc.   Pictures of toys = good times, I suppose.

This choice gift was made in England by Norton’s.  It remains to this day in pristine condition.  Do you know why?  Because NOBODY WANTS TO WASH WITH A BABY’S HEAD!

Object of the Day: A Trade Card for Pyle’s Pearline

We are not given to enthusiasm over many of these new ideals, but a fair trial will convince the most skeptical of the merits of Pearline.

James Pyle, of English descent, in the Nineteenth Century, settled in New York City.  Towering at six feet, five inches tall, Pyle was always interested in fragrances and invented a granulated soap which he called “Pyle’s Pearline,” manufacturing out of a factory in New York’s Grenwhich Village.  The Pyle Family has a long and strange history ranging from being banished from the U.S. after being “loyalists” during the American Revolution to a curious association with “Padre Pio,”  the priest who became famous for his constantly-bleeding “stigmata.”

Here, we see a Victorian-era trade card for Pyle’s Pearline.  The obverse depicts a rosy-cheeked child draped in white.  The child is holding a wide-eyed cat adorned with a bright pink ribbon.  Above this image reads:  “HAIL—GREAT INVENTION, WOMAN’S KINDEST FRIEND, PEARLINE HAS BROUGHT THY DRUDGERY TO AN END.”

On the reverse—a series of words are connected to a giant letter “P.”  It reads:

PYLE’S

PEARLINE

POSSESSES

PECULIAR

PURIFYING

PROPERTIES.

 

PRESS AND

PUBLIC

PRONOUNCE

PEARLINE

PERFECT.

 

PRUDENT

PEOPLE

PURCHASE

PYLE’S

PEARLINE.

 

Sold by all grocers.

 

James Pyle, New York.

 

From the Christian Intelligencer, N.Y.

 

We take pleasure in recommending to our readers an article which has in the last five years done more than anything we recall at the present, to relieve the hardest of woman’s work of much of its toil and drudgery.  We refer to James Pyle’s Pearline Washing Compound.  The immense consumption of this article is sufficient proof of its utility, and experience has taught us that it is far superior to soap.  We are not given to enthusiasm over many of these new ideals, but a fair trial will convince the most skeptical of the merits of Pearline. 

My investigation as to a familial connection with Goober and Gomer Pyle is still ongoing.