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NEW YORK SUN, April 17, 1946
Savings Official Loses Money in Banks
These are
some of the 100 mechanical children's banks in the Franklin Society
for Home Building and Savings. In this one, the mule rears, throwing
the jockey forward and the coin into a slot.
This soldier
takes his aim and shoots that nickel into the hollow tree trunk.
It’s Children’s Mechanical Depositories, Circa 1900, That Rob
Him
Robert J. Christensen, assistant
secretary of the Franklin Society for Home Building and Savings at 217
Broadway, has kissed good-by to more coins of a small denomination lately
than he ever thought would be possible in the interest of savings.
Christensen, in charge of the institution's collection of close to a
hundred mechanical children's banks, circa 1900, has so many requests from
curious spectators who want to know how they work that he's bereft of small
change practically all the time.
"I've lost more money to these darned things," he explained today,
laying a nickel on the nose of an iron bulldog with an enormous red collar.
Christensen pulled the dog's tail and the coin promptly dropped into its
mouth. "There," he said, "that's gone for good."
The bank's official admitted, however, that he is sort of fascinated
himself with the intricate workings of the items in the collection, which
number approximately 85 in perfect working condition, plus quite a few which
are in the process of repair.
Wide Range of Ingenuity.
The banks, most of which are made out of
cast iron and operated by levers or releases, cover a variety of subjects,
guaranteed to tax the imagination of childhood. Prospective depositors are
lured by everything from an Indian shooting a coin into a bear's chest to a
dog which pops out of a kennel and chases a small boy caught in the act of
stealing a watermelon.
"This is a dandy," the bank secretary said, picking up a gadget called
"Dark Town Battery," which was composed of a pitcher, batter and catcher. He
sprang the release and the pitcher deftly threw a penny into the catcher's
"breadbasket," where it disappeared from sight. "Isn't that terrific?"
Christensen asked.
Other items in the group, which incidentally is valued at approximately
$2,000, include the Bricklayer bank, where a mustachioed mason leans on his
wall and lays a brick as a hod-carrier drops the coin; a mule which bucks,
throwing the jockey forward and the money in a slot; and one called "The
Horse Race," where two horses gallop around a track at the drop of the
silver.
"This
might be called a form of gambling," Christensen remarked, adding that "of
course we couldn't encourage that."
Patriotic and Political Types.
On the patriotic side, there is Uncle Sam,
replete with whiskers and an umbrella, and whose carpet bag opens as he
lowers his arm to deposit the moola, while an early repository with a
political flavor is one called "Tammany," in which a bloated gent in a
yellow vest casually flips a coin into his coat pocket.
"No
comment," said Christensen.
"These
things have it all over the popular piggy banks," he continued.
"It was
hard to get your money back and they wouldn't break when they were dropped,
either. Besides, look at the fun you could have, even if they missed fire
occasionally."
The Franklin Society is a mere flap of the wing, as the crow flies from
Wall street, where a good many big oaks have grown from the small acorns
deposited in mechanical devices like the one on exhibit.
"Many
successful men and women of today owe a debt of gratitude to their parents
for the toy banks such as these which started them on the right road during
their formative years," Christensen declared. To prove his point, he
indicated the Wise Pig, a buff-colored number holding a sign which
counseled: "Save a penny yesterday, Another save today; Tomorrow save
another, To keep the wolf away." Christensen thinks it still is good advice,
even with a modern piggy bank without benefit of mechanics.
William J.
Dwyer, president, of the firm, shows Norma Dadswell
one of the banks that are on exhibition at the office, 217 Broadway.
The mason
here leans on the wall and lays a brick as the hod-carrier dumps his coin. |
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