Drink and Enjoy Kenny’s!

Pam’s Pictorama Post: Those of us on the East coast are enjoying a massive snow storm, perhaps even blizzard, this last Saturday in January. If you read last week’s post about the January-ness of this particular year (it can be found here if you missed it) you know that my attitude toward this month in general is to usher it out the door as expeditiously as possible. Still, it is January in New York and it is a time to expect some snow and here it is. Meanwhile, there is almost always snow on the ground for my birthday in February, and so the year opens.

I thought we could all use an especially jolly post today to help kick January out the door and this bit of kitty advertising did not disappoint in this regard when it wandered into Deitch Studio earlier this week. It is simply identified on the back with Drink and Enjoy KENNY’S Coffee and Teas.

I was surprised by how quickly I was able to locate a bit of history on Kenny’s coffee empire. Kenny liked a good premium and a handful of mostly ceramic ones are still extant. I cannot say I find the aesthetic of most of these nearly as entertaining as this wacky carload of kitties however. This card is as if Louis Wain did a stint wandering into an otherwise rather staid establishment. Kenny seemed partial to generally less colorful, more sedate and somewhat pedestrian premium. Some of the more jolly however, snatched off current sales on eBay below.

For a quick history on Kenny I got the scoop primarily from an article in the Baltimore Sun published back in 1999. Kenny was C.D. (Cornelius David) Kenny who arrived in Baltimore from Rochester in 1872. He quickly established his first coffee and tea emporium and rapidly expanded his business across several nearby states. The retail stores were shuttered in the early thirties as a result of the Depression remaining solely as a wholesale operation until it was eventually swallowed into anonymousness by one of the enormous food conglomerates.

January 2009 © Frank H. Jump

Onto the kitties. My previous posts about Victorian advertising cards (one can be found here) proved out that generally they were produced en masse with the intention of personalizing the card for a given vendor, not designed for them. So in theory this card could exist with advertising for another vendor printed on the back. For the record though, I have never seen this card before and my nascent searches for information did not turn up other examples.

Our driver kit is on the right side of this sort of Stanley Steamer-type auto, as photos confirm they actually did. He looks a bit nervous about being in charge, but I especially like the white fellow with his paw arms folded across his chest! Indeed! The two boys in the middle section appear to be have a grand time of it and look full of beans – especially the one in the yellow jacket. Faster, faster he cries!

Card as it sits flat. Pams-Pictorama.com collection.

In the back of the car a cat couple canoodles while their chaperon looks nervously on. Ha! She has no bandwidth for the thrills of the ride and instead is burdened with her responsibility for fluffy white girl kitty in pink who is holding paws with her dapper boyfriend.

I think you will agree that’s a whole lot of card fun to devote to a bit of advertising which isn’t even a display featuring the company on the front. The card is ingenious in design and how it folds out into three dimensions, creating a great effect; solidly constructing which is why it remains in good shape 100 years later. Even the grill of the card is affixed in such a way as to create another layer. Just splendid!

Back of card. Sturdy despite the age and a few dinks.

While I am tempted to try to find a way of keeping this one on display it resists remaining in the unfolded position and although in very good shape is certainly a bit fragile so perhaps it needs to live tucked into the Pictorama archive.

Meanwhile, the snow continues to pour down and sweep wildly by the window of our 16th floor apartment, piling up on the sill, so I may follow the example set by Cookie and Blackie and, figuratively at least, tuck my nose under my paws and have a snooze filled day.

10:00 am view outside our window. A bit calmer than what I see now!

Mound City Paint & Color Co.

Pam’s Pictorama Post: Followers of Pictorama know that one of my new supplier of interesting stuff resides in St. Louis (as always, a shout out to IG friend @MissMollysantiques), giving my recent acquisitions a decidedly mid-western flair – such as last week’s Krak-R-Jak tin box post. (In case you aren’t keeping up in real time, that one can be found here.) That item is also from St. Louis and honors a hometown company.

As an aside, one branch of my family, my mom’s father, hails from St. Louis. They were among the folks who took a covered wagon west and that was where they put down stakes. A generation or so later, my grandfather was traveling the country with the dog races when he met my grandmother at the Jersey shore. I have written several times about her part of the family, a large brood of then recent Italian immigrants who were making their way with restaurants, deli’s and bars. (One of those posts based on a family photo can be found here.) Poppy (as I called him) didn’t go into the family business, but instead worked for the Bendix company while my grandmother continued to help her family’s bar and restaurant. There was travel back and forth to the mid-west to see his family and I have seen a great snippet of film where he and my grandmother are riding a motorcycle out there on their honeymoon to see, and for her meet, his family.

I am developing a real soft spot for it these days, but I have never been to St. Louis – that branch of the family used to come to us rather than us going out there in my childhood and they have all relocated or died now. There is a family story I always liked however about how my father was there on an assignment for ABC News (probably in the 1970’s) and ran into my greatuncle making a call in a phone booth – yep, a phone booth – in a diner or the like and they had a meal together – a city that is a small town story. If the world hadn’t fallen off course with the pandemic and I had continued my travel schedule with the Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra I probably would have found myself out there by now, and perhaps still will. St. Louis has a great jazz history and remains a good town for jazz.

Original can of paint for sale on Etsy.

I cannot find tracks on whether the Mound City Paint & Color Company exists in any form today, however their name comes down to us via their advertising efforts which seem to reside in the now living memory of what is collectible today. Their Horse Shoe house brand of paint was promoted with a variety of useful items that would remind you that it was their paint you wanted to use when the time for painting arrived. My 1905 calendar card falls into this category, purchased because I was enticed by this Evelyn Nesbit look alike and this nice looking tuxedo kitty, boasting a huge white bow. (Kim and I discussed the various options of if this was actually ripped off of one of the myriad of Evelyn Nesbit photos that would have been available, or just a model who had gotten herself up in the style of her – which must have also been hugely popular in the day.)

Mound City Paint & Color Co. calendar card; Pams-Pictorama.com collection

It would appear that this was one in a quarterly drop of The Season’s Beauties calendar cards. (You are urged to keep up with the full set on the back of the card – Look out for NUMBER FOUR. No duplicates. Preserve the collection. One lost breaks the set.) This one is referred to as The Pippin and places girl and cat in an apple (presumably a pippin) for good measure. It therefore makes sense that this card covered the months of September, October and November, prime apple producing months. Presumably there a special holiday edition of these cards. Sadly, I could find no trace of the rest of the series however, although this nice watch fob below (sold at a Worthpoint auction) is a somewhat rarefied collectible. The folding yardstick is the most available, but least interesting to see. They must have been produced in huge abundance, and given their ongoing useful nature have remained available.

Sold on the Worthpoint auction site.

The advertising on the back of my card seems to be devoted to their brush on enamel product and you are urged to use it on refrigerator shelves (I was a tad surprised to even see the term refrigerator, rather than icebox, although Google assures me the term was already in use at the end of the 1800’s), closet shelves – further down it gets to sinks and bathtubs. It came in WHITE ONLY and had special directions on every can. It then goes into a litany extolling why you should buy this brand instead of a mystery one – the promise that you knew all and exactly what it contained, no mysterious extenders.

Pams-Pictorama.com collection; back of Mound City calendar card.

I close with a few of their stickers which are available on eBay and a final tip of the hat to the longevity of the advertising for the Mound City Paint and Color Company, St. Louis. Like many companies of the era, their advertising turned out to be their corporate immortality.

Premium

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Something given as a reward, prize, or incentive…Early 17th century (in the sense ‘reward, prize’): from Latin praemium ‘booty, reward’, from prae ‘before’ + emere ‘buy, take’. From the Oxford English Dictionary.

Pam’s Pictorama: For me one of the amazing and tantalizing pleasures of existing in the moment of time and space that I do is the relative availability of various premiums from the past. These items, only obtainable previously through either luck (think Cracker Jack) or by dint of labor (collecting cereal box tops shall we say), the products of early, crafty advertisers, are available now to us for examination and purchase more or less at will. It’s hard for me to describe how entertaining I find this to be – booty is the perfect word indeed, treasure! To a large degree, just being able to actually see them is enough, but yes of course, sometimes I find myself with a hankering to possess them as well.

I first became aware of this particular bounty while working my way through a Hake’s auction catalogue. On the festive occasion that those folks sends me one of their fat color catalogues I like nothing better than to curl up in bed and read every page, pointing out the best stuff to Kim. (If the folks from Hake’s are paying attention I would like to point out that I rarely disappoint them on the occasion of receiving their missive and have made many a purchase I may have not discovered online. I wrote a little ode to the Hake’s catalogue once which can be found here.) In the process of this, I have discovered things I never knew existed that deeply interest me. Among these are strange political buttons of elections long past and a wide variety of premiums – give aways from everything, cereal to radio program tie-ins. Most with origins I am at least passingly familiar with, although some dimly at best.

Therefore it is fair to say my fascination with these items is not linked to a particular affiliation with the origin. I can deeply enjoy perusing Lone Ranger premiums (silver bullet ring anyone?) while being only passingly familiar or interested in the lore of the Lone Ranger, his comrades and their adventures, having personally only ever been exposed to the television show as fodder for Sunday afternoons in my childhood. The rings alone – those that might decode, magnify, signal or contain a bit of mythical meteorite – tempt. Truly I would like to own them all and have only barely contained myself, limited by space, money and time.

Obviously where advertising and premiums intersect with felines I have made acquisitions (for example I opine on some splendid pin trays which sit happily on my dresser in my post Corbin Canadian Cats which can be found here), however I do wander astray occasionally however and give into something. Today’s item, this wonderful Little Orphan Annie Ovaltine mug purchased for me by Kim, is an example I am especially pleased with. It was easily obtained – I imagine the bar for acquiring it set purposely low and therefor in a sense still is – and you can all have one if you want. We paid a nominal amount for this very pristine example. I believed that it came in this cream color or a white version when I bought it. I purchased a cream colored one – but I now realize as I photograph it that the cream reads white – maybe all are cream colored? Ultimately I chose this one because of it’s utterly unworn state. It looks like it just came out of the box.

These mugs, manufactured exclusively for The Wander Co., Chicago makers of Ovaltine (as per the bottom of the mug) were evidently a tie in with the Little Orphan Annie radio broadcast, sponsored by Ovaltine from 1931-1940. I gather this was an extraordinarily effective tie in and, in the day, one rarely thought of the radio program without also thinking of Ovaltine.

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I have only a passing experience with Ovaltine from my own childhood. It wasn’t a favorite by any means but wander through it did. In my mind it was a lesser cocoa additive than the Nestle or Hershey scoop-able brown powders or (best of all) syrup that was preferred. My memory is that I sort of liked that it was more granular than powder which made it more interesting to dispense. I am not sure that the concept of it being more of a malted drink than a chocolate one was entirely coherent to me although my tastebuds knew it and preferred chocolate. I gather there was a nominal component of it being nutritious?

This mug surprised me by being somewhat child-sized, not tiny, but as an adult more appropriate for expresso than your morning cup of joe, which means I will not be using it for that end. I dearly love the image of Sandy on the back. I deeply regret that I have never found a Sandy toy that seems to entirely capture his mercurial charm. I continue to search. I am very enamored of the one I wrote about in my post Sandy Finds a Home which can be read here, but cuddly he is not. I would like to find a nice mohair version, something you can imagine a child taking to bed at night.

Sandy front scan

Sandy, Pams-Pictorama.com collection

 

Little Orphan Annie is enjoying a prolonged vogue in our home. Kim is reading his way through the series, via the IDW volumes for the most part, and is currently enjoying and very involved in 1935. I read one of the volumes several years ago and intend to get back to it now that they are all in the house or will be. For now he recounts highlights and occasionally points out whole strips for my delectation. Weekend mornings are his primary comic strip reading time – while I work on these posts as a matter of fact.

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The siren call of premiums has started to take hold of me however and I think Pictorama readers can anticipate a trend here. The lure of these items, hard won and carefully hoarded for us future generations, is one I cannot seem to resist.