Friday, July 16, 2021

Scented Ink And Typewritten Confessions

I don't know about you, but I seem to be surrounded by adverts. The magazines that drop through my letter-box seem to be almost exclusively adverts for dentists, plasterers and barbers. If I attempt to reach out to the rest of the world via the wonders of social media, my browsing is constantly interrupted by adverts for opticians, hotels and, bizarrely enough, woodworking lathes. My email inbox is cluttered with adverts for services that would make a Bishop blush, and don't get me started on day-time TV with its low-cost cremations and folding wheelchairs. Oh, how I yearn for the days when newspapers were full of news. Talking of which, I was reading a copy of the Brighouse Gazette from July 1896 the other day and I came across some fascinating .... adverts.

You cannot afford to do your writing in the old way - now, how about that for a slogan!

I love the idea of this. Free insurance against dying in a train accident if you happen to have a copy of the Brighouse Gazette with you at the time and have signed your name in ink.

And talking of ink, make sure you use Lyon's Ink because, says this rather faded advert, it never fades!

And tell me why, a booklet describing the wonders of the Wincycle would be scented!1

And no media, old or new, would be complete without being able to read the confessions of Mr W H Brown (and the like) who suffers from despondency and liver complaints due to :the errors of youth"

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