Why do people keep wrecking these boxes?

Why is it, when a drawing-set case is in a thrift-store, the latch of the box is always destroyed?

Probably because nobody remembers these cases. I.e. that these have a little latch at the front-right corner (or sometimes have two, at both front corners). Pulling-out the latch will unlock the box and -voila- the lid can be opened. For anyone encountering one of these baffling boxes; that's how they open.

This was a decent late 1930s to perhaps 1950 set, made by the firm of E.O. Richter in Chemnitz, Germany. A medium-sized set with ink-pen, a large compass, extender and a drop-bow compass. These are pretty common, but are quality instruments; worth trying to fix. 

To repair the latch, an old 2mm knitting-needle was filed down replace the missing section. The combined part (cyanoacrylate) makes the assembled 'rod' have again the slot for the little nail that locks it in orientation and limits its travel in its channel in the wooden base.

After re-fitting the latch (slide in from the right), placing the locking-nail (through the slot and push firmly into the wood), the purple box-lining is carefully glued down again as is thin paper-edging. An almost invisible repair, this.

These larger Richter-type compasses have a little mechanism that keep the handle straight - this must not be forced; you can't open the legs by pulling one leg and holding the handle. If you do, then the small guiding-rod snaps. That's probably another bit of once-common knowledge that's no longer all that common: the compass should be opened by holding the legs, not the handle. Thrift-store: so a broken guiding-rod. This little guiding-rod is now replaced by a new 'rod' fashioned from a length of M1 threaded rod and two (relatively massive) M1 nuts. (In picture below, centre, they're really rather small :-)

Yet another thing with thrift-store drawing-sets is that bits go missing. The case gets opened (broken open), handled and something will accidentally drop out and is lost amongst the rest of the jumble. This set is only missing its needle-attachment for the large compass. I have a spare part for this, but no needle-screws yet, so this is something to hunt for (or re-create).

These fairly-common Richter sets are difficult to date reliably, but the black tapered plastic handles would make it not earlier than the mid 1930s. The old style of Richter-brand and absence of any GDR quality marks suggest it is earlier than 1950 and probably before 1945.

In any case, the latch-repair turned out well and even though these sets are common (and not expensive), it is a very nice and still usable drawing-set. (And at a fiver, no regrets about getting it :)

Standard Folding 2 Typewriter - restored

The barn-find from Jubbega; restored:

Front panel lettering of the Standard Folding Typewriter

The very distinctive 'Standard Folding Typewriter' lettering on the aluminum front-panel is now also applied to the restored machine. At first it was a bit faded and not quite the result that was aimed for, but it did look 'aged' and in keeping with a century-old machine :)

In the process of restoring this derelict machine, the front panel was completely stripped to bare aluminum again. To complete the restoration, it was also to get a new 'decal' with the distinctive 'Old English black' typeface stating that it is a Standard Folding Typewriter.

To start with, a suitable 'Old English' typeface was found and the basic lettering created with it. This already gets close, but there are still noticeable details that are 'off'.

Using some of the many photographs that are available online of Standard Folding typewriters, the lettering was tweaked to better match the letter-kerning and line-spacing.

Then the size of the lettering was estimated from counting pixels on photographs, and calculating what percentage of width of the front panel was the distance between the outside of the uprights of the 'F' and the 'r'.

This lettering was then laser-printed mirror-image on silicone-covered backing paper. That's by re-using the backing of a regular label-sheet for laser-printing - giving several 'heat-transfer' labels.

A 'transfer' was then taped to the front-panel and an iron was used to heat-press the black laser-toner onto the aluminum surface.  The sintered toner again becomes soft and adheres better to the aluminum than it does to the backing-paper, at least that's the theory. (In hindsight, should have cleaned the aluminum surface better, with acetone or similar de-greaser - a next time...)

Some corners of the decal somehow didn't transfer neatly - the right-most 'r' was e.g. missing. Also the black toner transfers to the textured aluminum imperfectly, as if leaving the tops of the texture exposed and resulting in a faded, grey appearance. (Possibly some printer-setting could be found to apply excess toner, again something for a next time...)

The net-result after application was not quite what was hoped for; it does match the look of an aged machine, but does not match the 'new' keys and overall clean machine. On the plus-side, the heat-transfer laser-toner is not fragile - it's a very rub-resistant 'decal'.

Alternatives could have been a waterslide transfer or direct ink-jet printing. Because of the bare, textured aluminum a waterslide transfer is however not ideal, because the outline of the backing would probably show clearly. The direct inkjet-printing onto the aluminum surface also has its challenges; a consumer-printer would require some significant modification to accept the front-panel. A more suitable printer would be a UV-cured inkjet printer that can print also on irregular surfaces. These are usually found in a professional setting (e.g. as used to make promotional merchandise, printing on bottles etc.), so also not readily accessible for tinkering/exploring as an option.

With some careful retouching, the end result of this attempt with heat-transfer of laser-toner is however not too bad. There were enough 'hints' from the transfer to create the missing 'r' and to e.g. complete the 'd'. (Retouching was done with a fine camel-hair brush and black latex paint - this paint can be easily removed with a damp cloth in case of mistakes. Not so durable, but safe and reversible.) 

End-result is a fairly decent reproduction 'decal' on the Standard Folding Typewriter, fitting for a restored 100+ year old machine. 

(There is always the option to clear the panel with a gentle glass-bead blasting and re-do things; in case a better option comes along. For now, we'll leave it for a bit - see how this 'ages' :-)

Imported from St. Petersburg to Rotterdam, an Original-Odhner arithmometer model Ag

Imported from St. Petersburg, Russia to Rotterdam, Holland around 1908 by the J.A. Ruys trading company,

The Ruys trading company was the continuation of the Voorhoeve trading company, renamed in 1904 when J.A. Ruys bought-in to take over the company. A major line of business at that time was the importing and sale of Hammond typewriters, and Odhner calculators as shown in the 1904 newspaper ad below.

Hammond machines in The Netherlands often have the brass Ruys shield in the same style as the Hammond shield on the wooden base.

Ruys also advertised the Odhner calculator by itself, for example in this newspaper ad from October 1907.

(More advertisements and some background on Odhner at the informative mechanical calculators pages of Jaap Scherphuis.)

The St. Petersburg-made Odhner machines really are the original pinwheel calculator, the start of the 'category'. As such, it is a historical milestone-machine for automated calculation When this one showed up on the local classifieds site, curiosity won-out and I made an 'impulse purchase' - pretty much the item as advertised in that 1907 newspaper ad.

With almost 30,000 made, these calculators should not be rare and be available at relatively modest prices. The very early ones (with short crank) are however eye-wateringly expensive these days and even the later, nice specimens with case are becoming sought-after. This later specimen in the state it was in, was fortunately affordable.

This is a model A with 13 digits capacity in the result register. An extra 'g' indicates a bell, so this is a model Ag. The marking with 'Original-Odhner' instead of 'Odhner-Arithmometer' started in 1907 (to set it apart from the increasingly successful clones). Going by the serial-number of 14618 and the advanced features (comma-sliders, fast-clearing bar) this machine was probably made in 1908 or perhaps late '07.

It had been given as a present (retirement gift?) to the grandparents of the seller. Nothing however was remembered about the background or the occasion, it had just been 'around' for decades. There was no case and it is mounted on a (1950s?) small multiplex board. And now sold.

The calculator was also missing its bell, several screws and generally rusty and dusty. It was also very stiff - so did not try to operate it before cleaning and lubricating. Otherwise there is risk of blocking the machine or even breaking something from excess stress.

Without taking apart any of the more complex sub-assemblies, like the drum or registers, it was laid out in its main components. All mechanisms were oiled (sewing-machine oil) and gently worked free. Some assemblies may have to be taken apart later for more thorough cleaning and removing excess (and old) oil.

Metric M2.5 was a good fit for replacements for the cover-screws. Heads were modified to match the pattern of the remaining original screws ('instrument-head'). 

Unsure what screw-threads were standard in pre-revolution Russia, but when the Odhner production-design was made in 1890 or so it was probably designed around 'Sellers' or American threads. The cover-screws are what today'd be called UNF #3-56 screws - the M2.5 is nearly identical in diameter, pitch and has the same 60 degree thread-angle. (International metric is derived from French standard screws, that are in turn derived from William Sellers' American screws with 60 degreed angle.) 

Assuming old American-size threads, the screws in the register wing-nut flange are probably #5. Anyhow, a decent replacement for a missing screw was scavenged from a 1947 Underwood standard.

Most notable of course was the missing bell - a small bicycle bell! At 32 mm diameter it is slightly too large, but does fit and at overflow makes a wonderfully bright 'Dingg!'. It being black also is in keeping with the machine's overall 'not shiny' appearance :)

On older Odhner machines without bell, the carriage can simply be slid out. On this model however, a locking screw has to be removed first (and the bell taken off too). This screw is accessible by first removing the back-panel - it has a squared-off head that will also prevent it working loose as it strikes the two end-stops.

On the right in the image above the only safety interlock of the machine can also be seen. The steel disk with one cut-out works in tandem with the slotted bar to prevent carriage and drum being operated at the same time.

The machine is now free from the copious dust and dirt. The mechanism is mostly functional, although not yet as it should be in all positions. Some of the register-wheels hardly want to move - more disassembly and cleaning will be needed for that. There is also the chance that it is just worn-out. 

Additionally, some of the gear-train and handle have developed play and cause the timing to go slightly off for the safety interlock - to be looked at later too. The rusty covers could perhaps be re-finished, but it may all be left as it is. The calculator just looks its age :)

It also definitely looks 'old' when compared to a 1930s Odhner, side by side in the above image. The later, Swedish-built machine is smaller than the older Russian-made machine, yet with many more features and safety interlocks. The size of the old machine, its features and also very much the curly script do evoke the turn of the century (the 20th century, that is).

A survivor from the dawn of widespread mechanical calculation :-)

Gebruiksaanwijzing voor de Mignon-schrijfmachine (Oskar Markx)

User-instructions for the Mignon-typewriter, from the exclusive importer for The Netherlands; 'AEG-Typewriter Importing', Oskar Markx, Amsterdam. A very informative post about him is at the Schrijfmachine blog.

This booklet was folded-up in the cardboard box that'd normally be supplied with the machine. Sourced from the local classifieds-site - now again with a Dutch-language Mignon Model 4, however a machine without the Oskar Markx label. (Many Mignon's of the late 1920s  in The Netherlands have a decal of Oskar Markx, importer. Just not this machine, maybe not imported by his company or the labeling was not always done.)

The content is the Dutch translation of the original, German instructions; everything you need to know to set-up and use the Mignon. It also is very optimistic on typing speed; claiming a speed of 250 to 300 characters per minute is achievable with a bit of practice.

That's 5 characters per second - quite a feat!

But for just getting to typing with the machine, the instructions are now scanned and uploaded to The Archive, for reading and/or downloading a PDF copy :)

Awkward adding machine repairs, a Dalton that's not a Dalton

As an entertaining puzzle. Originally this blocked-wreck was bought to be a source of American-size screws and some spare parts, but was also tempting to see what can be learned from it and what could perhaps be fixable.

This is a Dalton, but it is also not a Dalton adding machine. It was indeed manufactured in the old Dalton factory in Norwood, but this is not a Dalton design. This really is a Remington-Rand 'Portable' adding-listing machine. The Remington adding machine is actually the Brennan adding machine. This company had a brilliant, compact design by Thomas Mehan, but had the misfortune to launch new (expensive) business machine in 1929 just before the crash. When the Brennan company went under in the early 30-ies, it was bought by Remington-Rand. 

Remington-Rand had itself been formed a few years earlier in '27 from the merger of Remington, Rand-Kardex, Dalton and Baker-Vawter Ledger. The newly acquired Brennan design was superior to the by-then aged original Dalton design and from '33 the Brennan-design was basis for the new Remington-Rand  'Portable' adding-listing machine.

Most of these new 'Portable' adding-listing machines were sold as Monarch, many as Remington and some as Torpedo (Germany) or Dalton. It seems the Dalton brand was used mostly in export machines, e.g. in regions where the Dalton name was still valuable. This particular 9-column specimen with display, serial number M 150,893 is from 1937. Like many late 30ies Dalton's, this one was also originally sold in Belgium.

A lot of tweaking and oil on several cams un-blocked the main movement. The blocking was caused by hardened old oil/grease stopping lever springing back when they were expected to do so. The keyboard was however badly rusted, the key-stems no longer moving freely in the slots in the equally rusty key-plate. This specimen being a wreck anyways, the keyboard was taken off and taken apart.

These 'Portable' machines are not easy to work on, the keyboard-assembly is really hard to get out (as commented on by bss1250 in his video on a Monarch). Some bending of the outer side-frames is needed to get it out. The bottom-plate can be screwed off and then the routing of the keys to the number-positions is visible - the row of 'prods' that enter a number into memory are at arrow A. The protrusions on the line B are what trips the universal bar (itself in top-right of picture). All the stems C have a delicate spring on it that pushes the key back up.

When the keyboard is removed, the 9-column register can be seen on the machine, slidable on its rails. The teethed/castellated rack in the front of the memory-bank (pin-bed) engages with the escapement, to index it one position on every digit entered. The pin that's pushed down in a column enters a number, just like the original Dalton. (That lever in front was a bit worrying, that fell out when holding it upside down! Took a bit of puzzling to find where it should go - it's the lever that prevents keyboard-clearing when the repeat-button is pressed down.)

All the key-stems are uniquely shaped, they were all cleaned with steel-wool. Having gone this far, the key-plate was stripped and re-finished with dark green paint.

Re-assembly of the keyboard-assembly is 'hard'. The 13 delicate springs need to be held in place on 13 keylevers that themselves need three tabs to be in slots of both top and bottom plates. The hole in the 'prod' of the key-levers now makes sense - this allows a wire to be fed through to keep them in-place during the assembly. Only after several attempts and extra spring-clips to hold things together, was the keyboard put together again - this is not meant for maintenance!

Again bending the side-frame and a lot of puzzling on how the various levers have to be positioned, the keyboard could be screwed back onto the machine. Now with clean key-stems that spring-back easily.

Numbers could then be entered into the machine, the adding mechanism however still made mistakes. When adding 15 to 15, the result was 20 - none of the ten-carry's worked. Adding 3 to 7 made zero.

How or where the mechanism does (or ought to do) the tens carry was not obvious from peering at the mechanism. Reading Mehan's original patent for the mechanism and looking at the drawings gave however a great explanation on how the carry's are supposed to work. (This by the way also made understandable why an 'empty-stroke' is always needed before the total can be printed.)

When a number-wheel (71) passes from 9 to zero, a notch on this wheel (103, marked green) pushes the lever 104 down, allowing the pin 56a on the rack to enter the slot in lever 104 (circled red). The lever 105 on axle 108 (marked red) needs to spring forward to hold 105 down for the carry to happen cleanly.

On this machine, all levers 105 were glued solid on their axle 108 (red arrow, below). This prevented any carry from happening.

With fresh oil and by forcing the levers to move to break the hardened grease, the levers 105 again moved freely. This actually fixed the carry's!; adding 15 to 15 again gives 30.

With the keys also cleaned (they were grimy-black all-over), the whole machine might actually be fixable.

Viewing from the front, the indexing mechanism is blocking the view to the pin-bed memory behind it. The universal bar (white arrow) is what trips the escapement, the long horizontal spring at the bottom pulls the 'carriage' of pin-bed memory to the left. One position at every digit entered.

These Remington small adding machines are not rare and not valuable today, so a good candidate for the occasional puzzling to fix all the other things that still don't work (e.g. the printing mechanism insists everything is a sub-total). And in case of failure and breaking it, not a big issue either.

A 3D crossword-puzzle, as it were ;-)