Click on image to forget. Or not. |
Hmmm...where to begin? This isn't a trade card per se. It's not a calling card or even a visiting card. It's simply a pretty little chromolithograph printed on card stock. Now, I do believe that this could have been used as a trade card. It looks like the sort which were available for over-printing or reverse printing through catalogs. But, this just wasn't a run-of-the-mill stock card. This one is beautifully embossed. This would have made printing on the reverse rather awkward, but that never stopped them.
This was the preferred Victorian image-- Cupid or some random putto (or perhaps just a winged baby, who can tell?) surrounded by a variety of symbolic flowers (none of which, oddly enough, is a forget-me-not), sitting on a quasi-funereal plinth, wistfully carving some sweet message into a tabula rassa with one of his arrows. On the plinth below him is inscribed "Forget me Not."
Regardless if this unused card was made as a blank trade card or as a never-used affectionate greeting, it is gorgeously printed. These bright, rich colors are, to me, the epitome of Victorian printing. Furthermore, the embossing is exceptional. A chromolithograph in relief of this quality doesn't seem to be the work of late Nineteenth-Century American printers. I'd say this was European.
So, let's have a caption contest. We've not done one yet this week. I'm ashamed, why don't you tell me what the little tyke is scrawling on the tablet...
Answers in the comments section, please.
17 comments:
Gonna hack me off a nice big hunk o' this cheese before Athena gets here
Athena was famously a cheese hog.
Pick up: eggs, milk, new quiver, arrow heads, magic love dust, diapers, wing grease...
Same as my shopping list.
It's a note asking for freedom from the giant flowers which have enslaved him.
That seems reasonable.
It's a ransom note for the sheep he has hidden in that base.
Bo Peep says Hello.
--Darcy.
Dear Diary. Today I decided it's time for shoes.
The flower patch is quiet. Too quiet.
Shoes would make a difference.
The next sentence, Barb.
And, then the buzzing began. It was the time of the bees.
Think I want to be a winged monkey for Halloween this year. After all I already have the wings. I'll just scratch out a sketch on this tablet and get Athena to sew it up for me. She should know how to do it. She's been mighty proud of her sewing since the Singer company named a sewing machine after her.
That's very clever! But, now, I want to be a winged monkey. Not for halloween, just in general.
He is writing home to get some clothes.
Sensible.
Dear Three Graces,
Stop tying me to trees.
Cupid
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