“NO TIPS ALLOWED”
SUGGESTION OF THE STEWARDS
FOR EMBODIMENT IN AWARD.
During his submission of the case of the Cooks and Stewards’ Federation in their dispute with the Union Shipping Company, Mr. E. J. Carey stated to the Arbitration Court to-day that the men desired that the practice of tipping should cease. The claims of the men were 32 shillings [£1.12.0] per week for second-class stewards and 37 shillings [£1.17.0] for first-class stewards and the abolition of tips. If the Court would make this award the stewards would do their utmost to arrange for the abolition of tips.
They did not want to beg for payment for the work they did. They would agree to have the boats placarded “No tips allowed,” and they would agree to instant dismissal in the case of a steward taking tips; the company could endorse its ticket “steward included.” The men were even prepared to have it made a breach of the award for a steward to take a tip. The federation would do all possible to cooperate with the Court, the Union Company, and the public, to save their dignity as workers, and to ensure their being placed on the same footing as firemen, sailors, and other workers.
The tipping system, said Mr. Carey, had been forced upon them by the Court, because they could not pay house rent on their present wages. It was idle to say the tipping system could not be stopped; there was the example of the railways. If the Court, in its award, said that tips were still to be taken into consideration when framing the minimum wage for stewards, it practically ordered and instructed that the general public should pay part of the wages of the men. On the intercolonial boats the labour union had stopped the practice, and they had endeavoured to stop it on the coast.
Evening Post, [Wellington, N.Z.] 29 April 1915.
Ellen Hawley’s post “A quick history of the Royal Mail” had me digging out this old cigarette card about a delivery experiment from the late 19th century.
British Post Office Centre-Cycles
A number of Centre-Cycles (five-wheeler carrier machines) were used by the Post Office in the Horsham area in 1883, about the time of the introduction of the parcel post.
Above the small wheels of the Centre-Cycle were brackets supporting large baskets for carrying correspondence and parcels. Because of the arrangement of its four small wheels clustered round the centre big wheel, it was familiarly known as the “Hen and Chickens.”
These Centre-Cycles were not generally successful and their use was discontinued.
(Number 11 in a series of 50 cards issued by John Player & Sons in 1939.)
Can’t imagine why they didn’t catch on. They look so light and manoeuvrable!
One portion of Aerodrome Brooklands showing motor track. No hangers shown although plenty up the other end.
The banked race track at Brooklands in Surrey, England, opened in 1907 and was the first purpose-built motor racing circuit in the world. The land inside the track was used by pioneer aviators for their flying experiments and became an aerodrome in 1909.
The message on this old postcard has no signature or date but the mention of “plenty” of hangers suggests a date of about 1912 when there were several flying schools based there.
I can only guess at the aircraft’s make and model. All suggestions welcome.
This elegant Art Nouveau advertisement from 1911 takes us back to a time when London phone numbers were only four digits long and urgent messages were delivered by telegram.
It suggests the appearance of a Talbot motor car would be enough to stop horse-traffic and leave newspaper sellers gawping in awe as a member of the metropolitan police waved it through Hyde Park Corner. It would be chauffeur driven, of course, while the affluent owners relaxed in the rear cabin. Perhaps they’re off to some society gathering, or maybe an early dinner before the opera.
The ad is aimed unashamedly at the target market – people with lots of money. Clement Talbot Ltd of Ladbrook Grove didn’t need to advertise their cars to the mass market because, in 1911, there wasn’t one.
With St. Patrick’s Day coming up this weekend I thought I’d get in early and share these impressions of an Irish jaunting car from 1935.
Postcards by Valentines.
In the last thirty years the British motor industry has grown rapidly and mass-production of moderately priced cars has increased the standard of living of millions of citizens. English cars, unsurpassed for their quality and reliability, are in demand throughout the world and ably demonstrate our national aptitude in engineering skill. These photographs were taken of work in famous factories at Cowley and Birmingham.
‘England Today in Pictures’, Odhams Press Ltd, 1947.
Austin 10 family saloons at the Birmingham factory. 0 to 60 m.p.h. in a blistering 1 minute 55 sec!
A production line for the Morris 8E – made by humans, not robots – at Cowley, Oxford.
We might have a more demanding definition of “quality and reliability” today, so those words should be understood in their historical context, not to mention their propaganda value for a country struggling to recover after WWII. Petrol (gas) was still rationed in 1947 and a large proportion of new car production was exported to boost the economy. A new car was actually out of reach for “millions of citizens”. Consequently, second hand pre-war vehicles held their value well into the 1950s.
A Lady’s Pedestrian Hobby-horse
In 1818, Denis Johnson, Coachmaker, of Long Acre, London, introduced the Hobby-horse into England. A year later a modified version of this contrivance for the use of ladies was introduced, probably by Johnson, who exhibited it at his riding school. The machine, which weighed about 66 lb., had a wooden dropped frame somewhat resembling that of the lady’s bicycle of to-day. The saddle was supported on an iron pillar fixed to the lower part of the frame. There is very little evidence that the ladies of the early 19th century indulged in the pastime, although Johnson’s advertisements assured them that it could be enjoyed without loss of decorum.
Well Denis would say that, wouldn’t he? He was trying to sell them! It could be argued that a lady’s decorum might be slightly damaged just by getting on to the thing and completely destroyed when seen pushing a 66 lb. wooden contraption up a hill on a hot day.
The image and text come from a “Cycling” collection of cigarette cards produced by John Player and Son in 1939. It could be the start of an occasional series.