Little ads - Britain, 1947. Various mongers.

So, if you wanted a Bubo clockwork owl in 1947, you had to visit the Sackville-Bagginses in their ironmongery shop. I would have headed straight to the owlmonger's shop. That would have wasted my entire morning, heading all the way across the Bywater into the Westfarthing. Boy would my face have been red.

Back then, you didn't replace a "tyre", you had it retreaded. Of course, in England at the time, you couldn't go faster than twenty miles per hour on their cobbled paths anyway. Still, I wouldn't trust "tyres" this bald to get me as far as Grumbleton or Valdermortsfordshire, let alone Wembley!

Protects your fireplace's brightwork from the pesky eye-rays of your nosiest neighbors.

It's kind of hard to tell what they're selling in this ad. But, right at the end, it mentions shoe shops. Good thing. I was about to head out to my local childmonger's for a Little Toddler.


Steve Miller said...

"They's good eatin'!"

Fil said...

"...just ask Gronk!"

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