A curious part of the street toy business is the sale of dolls, and
especially that odd branch of it, doll’s-eye making. There are only two
persons following this business in London, and by the most intelligent
of these I was furnished with the following curious information:--
“I make all kinds of eyes,” the eye-manufacturer said, “both dolls’
and human eyes; birds’ eyes are mostly manufactured in Birmingham, and
as you say, sir, bulls’ eyes at the confectioner’s. Of dolls’ eyes
there are two sorts, the common and the natural, as we call it. The
common are simply small hollow glass spheres, made of white enamel,
and coloured either black or blue, for only two colours of these are
made. The bettermost dolls’ eyes, or the natural ones, are made in a
superior manner, but after a similar fashion to the commoner sort.
The price of the common black and blue dolls’ eyes is five shillings
for twelve dozen pair. We make very few of the bettermost kind, or
natural eyes for dolls, for the price of those is about fourpence a
pair, but they are only for the very best dolls. Average it throughout
the year, a journeyman doll’s-eye maker earns about thirty shillings
a-week. The common dolls’ eyes were twelve shillings the twelve dozen
pairs twenty-five years ago, but now they are only five shillings. The
decrease of the price is owing to competition, for though there are
only two of us in the trade in London, still the other party is always
pushing his eyes and underselling our’n. Immediately the demand ceases
at all, he goes round the trade with his eyes in a box, and offers them
at a lower figure than in the regular season, and so the prices have
been falling every year. There is a brisk and a slack season in our
business, as well as in most others. After the Christmas holidays up
to March we have generally little to do, but from that time eyes begin
to look up a bit, and the business remains pretty good till the end
of October. Where we make one pair of eyes for home consumption, we
make ten for exportation; a great many eyes go abroad. Yes, I suppose
we should be soon over-populated with dolls if a great number of them
were not to emigrate every year. The annual increase of dolls goes on
at an alarming rate. As you say, sir, the yearly rate of mortality must
be very high, to be sure, but still it’s nothing to the rate at which
they are brought into the world. They can’t make wax dolls in America,
sir, so we ship off a great many there. The reason why they can’t
produce dolls in America is owing to the climate. The wax won’t set in
very hot weather, and it cracks in extreme cold. I knew a party who
went out to the United States to start as doll-maker. He took several
gross of my eyes with him, but he couldn’t succeed. The eyes that we
make for Spanish America are all black. A blue-eyed doll wouldn’t sell
at all there. Here, however, nothing but blue eyes goes down; that’s
because it’s the colour of the Queen’s eyes, and she sets the fashion
in our eyes as in other things. We make the same kind of eyes for
the gutta-percha dolls as for the wax. It is true, the gutta-percha
complexion isn’t particularly clear; nevertheless, the eyes I make for
the washable faces are all of the natural tint, and if the gutta-percha
dolls look rather bilious, why I ain’t a going to make my eyes look
bilious to match.
“I also make human eyes. These are two cases; in the one I have black
and hazel, and in the other blue and grey.” [Here the man took the
lids off a couple of boxes, about as big as binnacles, that stood on
the table: they each contained 190 different eyes, and so like nature,
that the effect produced upon a person unaccustomed to the sight was
most peculiar, and far from pleasant. The whole of the 380 optics
all seemed to be staring directly at the spectator, and occasioned
a feeling somewhat similar to the bewilderment one experiences on
suddenly becoming an object of general notice; as if the eyes, indeed,
of a whole lecture-room were crammed into a few square inches, and all
turned full upon you. The eyes of the whole world, as we say, literally
appeared to be fixed upon one, and it was almost impossible at first
to look at them without instinctively averting the head. The hundred
eyes of Argus were positively insignificant in comparison to the 380
belonging to the human eye-maker.] “Here you see are the ladies’ eyes,”
he continued, taking one from the blue-eye tray. “You see there’s
more sparkle and brilliance about them than the gentlemen’s. Here’s
two different ladies’ eyes; they belong to fine-looking young women,
both of them. When a lady or gentleman comes to us for an eye, we are
obliged to have a sitting just like a portrait-painter. We take no
sketch, but study the tints of the perfect eye. There are a number
of eyes come over from France, but these are generally what we call
misfits; they are sold cheap, and seldom match the other eye. Again,
from not fitting tight over the ball like those that are made expressly
for the person, they seldom move ‘consentaneously,’ as it is termed,
with the natural eye, and have therefore a very unpleasant and fixed
stare, worse almost than the defective eye itself. Now, the eyes we
make move so freely, and have such a natural appearance, that I can
assure you a gentleman who had one of his from me passed nine doctors
without the deception being detected.
“There is a lady customer of mine who has been married three years to
her husband, and I believe he doesn’t know that she has a false eye to
this day.
“The generality of persons whom we serve take out their eyes when they
go to bed, and sleep with them either under their pillow, or else in
a tumbler of water on the toilet-table at their side. Most married
ladies, however, never take their eyes out at all.
“Some people wear out a false eye in half the time of others. This
doesn’t arise from the greater use of them, or rolling them about, but
from the increased secretion of the tears, which act on the false eye
like acid on metal, and so corrodes and roughens the surface. This
roughness produces inflammation, and then a new eye becomes necessary.
The Scotch lose a great many eyes, why I cannot say; and the men in
this country lose more eyes, nearly two to one. We generally make only
one eye, but I did once make two false eyes for a widow lady. She lost
one first, and we repaired the loss so well, that on her losing the
other eye she got us to make her a second.
“False eyes are a great charity to servants. If they lose an eye no one
will engage them. In Paris there is a charitable institution for the
supply of false eyes to the poor; and I really think, if there was a
similar establishment in this country for furnishing artificial eyes
to those whose bread depends on their looks, like servants, it would
do a great deal of good. We always supplies eyes to such people at
half-price. My usual price is 2_l._ 2_s._ for one of my best eyes. That
eye is a couple of guineas, and as fine an eye as you would wish to see
in any young woman’s head.
“I suppose we make from 300 to 400 false eyes every year. The great
art in making a false eye is in polishing the edges quite smooth. Of
dolls’ eyes we make about 6000 dozen pairs of the common ones every
year. I take it that there are near upon 24,000 dozen, or more than a
quarter of a million, pairs of all sorts of dolls’ eyes made annually
in London.”