Quick Find: #141, #143, #144, #146, #147, #148, #164, #171, #180, #181, #182, #190, #190W, #191, #192, #193, #193A, #193B, #194, #195, #196
This, and the following
plane, are the bull nose versions of the #41 and #43. Two interchangeable nose
pieces are provided with
these two planes; one that functions as a bull nose, and
one that's for normal
ploughing. One of the arms (on which the fence fastens)
threads into the main
casting near the handle, but the other slips through the
casting and instead
threads into the installed nose piece. This sorta is a
pain in the butt when
you have to change nose pieces, but such is the life of a
manual laborer.
With the bull nose attachment fixed to the plane, the
plane can work into a
1/2" hole; i.e., when making a stopped groove, you can
terminate the
groove with a 1/2" diameter hole, and the plane can work up
to it. When
working bull nose with the plane, the bullnose piece often
slams into the end
of the work and can become munged up. Check this area out.
The early models are japanned with the deep floral
casting that's common on
the Miller's Patents which inspired them. They later became
fully nickel
plated, including the adjusting screws and chip deflector,
and they don't have
the depth to the floral motifs that the earlier models do.
Starting ca. 1905,
the floral casting was eliminated, and the plane became just
another ugly chunk
of 20th century metalwork.
While the cutters have a similar appearance to those
provided on the
conventional Miller's Patents, the cutters shipped with
these planes are not
the same thickness; the tool's cutters are thinner in cross
section. The plane
is normally found with its fillister bed missing, and should
you own the nickel
plated version of the plane and are missing the fillister
bed, you have my best
wishes and positive vibes for finding a nickel plated bed.
The bull nose
attachment is also commonly MIA.
A single fence was provided with the plane. This
fence, like those used on
the later #41's and other planes like the #45, has two pair of holes in it
so that one fence can
serve both grooving and fillistering functions; the top
set of holes are used
for fillistering work, while the bottom set of holes are
normally used for
ploughing. Check the fence casting all over for any signs
of cracking or
damage.
The demands in the workshop are rather limited for a
plane such as this
(quick, how many times you ever make stopped grooves?) so
sales of the plane
were weak when compared to the main line of Miller's
Patents. Oh yeah, you
can't use the fillister bed with the bull nose piece in
place. Sad news, I
realize, but deal with it.
This plane follows the same evolution as the #141, except for one notable exception - the fence was provided with a rosewood face, like on the #45 and #55, starting in the mid-1930's.
A scarce version of this plane, made during the last
few years of its life,
has the number "143" cast into it. All the other planes of
this style
- the #41,
#42,
#43,
#44,
and #141 -
never had any numbers cast into them.
These are the Radi
planes (or whatever their names are of those new junk tools
sold at major tool
joints) of yesterday, and are the first hint of bad things
to come where the
depths to which Stanley would plunge themselves to develop
new ideas was a
bottomless abyss. Things are pretty much downhill from here
in the New Chunks
of Iron Department what were spawned during Stanley's
boring-20's onward.
They are rather strange looking planes - a
rectangular chunk of cast iron,
with an eliptical cutout forward of the cutter and another
behind the cutter. A
diagonal groove is machined, from top to bottom at the
midpoint of the plane,
to receive the cutter. A raised portion of the casting,
forward of the groove,
carries a slotted and flat-headed screw, which is used to
secure the cutter in
position (you need a screwdriver - a real one and maybe the
cocktail to loosen
you up - to operate this plane). The sole is shaped to
approximately
one-quarter of an arc. The casting is japanned. "STANLEY" is
embossed
on the side opposite the cutter; the background to either
side of the embossing
is cross-hatched in a manner that's similar to a better
machinist's combination
square.
The plane comes in
three
different sizes - 1/4", 3/8", and 1/2" (sized by the radius
of a
circle). The 3/8" model is the most common, with the 1/4"
the least
encountered. The cutter sticks up above the casting, and the
vast majority of
the cutters have the sweetheart logo stamped into them.
Proper cutters also
have the plane's working diameter stamped into them, right
about where the
cutter securing screw holds it in place, e.g., "1/2 CIR."
Oddly
enough, this same stamp, but in smaller letters, is found on
the 'fence' right
behind cutter. Check that the cutter has the proper stamps
on it to ensure that
it isn't a replacement. The plane's have "No. 144" embossed
in the
casting, along with the patent date of "U.S.PAT. 10-6-25",
but the
earliest ones just have "PAT APPL FOR" embossed in them.
I find them very cumbersome to grip. Woe is you if
you decide to use one of
these things and your rear hand slips - that cutter is
hungry to slice not only
wood, but your hand as well. You can get the same results
that this plane
yields with an appropriately sized hollow, which is far, far
cheaper than one
of these planes.
The planes are very rugged since there's not much a
ham-fisted woodworker can
damage on them, and many of them are found in nearly unused
condition, which
should give the astute reader that the things don't work
worth a damn.
This plane is the narrowest version of the more common #148. It cuts a groove 1/8" wide, and centers it on stock 3/8" thick. You can use it on stock up to 1/2" thick, since the tonguing cutter has its outer portion purposely made a bit wider than its inner portion.
This plane is the narrower version of the more common #148. It cuts a groove 3/16" wide, and centers it on stock 5/8" stock. You can use it on stock up to 3/4" thick.
BTW, did you notice the effect the big war had on
this and the previous
three planes in this list? It was the perfect excuse for
Stanley to punt them
from their tool roster. Many of Stanley's planes, and tools
for that matter,
got bounced forever from production during WWII.
This is the widest and
most common of three planes designed to match (tongue and
groove) boards, and,
for some strange reason, Stanley took to offering them
decades after the debut
of the successful #48 and #49 planes. That crazy and whacky
Stanley certainly
cherished either redundancy or total tool confusion by
making this series. This
plane centers a 1/4" groove on 7/8" stock, and can handle
stock up to
1" thick.
All three are nickel plated metal, have their model
numbers cast into the
handle, and are sorta bizzare looking. They have two
opposing totes at opposite
ends of the plane, with the cutters positioned between them.
There are similar
wooden planes, made primarilly by the upstate NY makers,
which undoubtedly
inspired these later ones. They are used by pushing the
plane to make one of
the cuts, then flipping it, end for end, to make the other.
One plane does the
work that is commonly done by two. So, it's like having two,
two, two planes in
one.
There is a skate-like portion of the casting, which
acts as the fence, that
runs the length of the plane. To either side and above this
part of the casting
are the cutters - one for cutting the groove and one for
cutting the tongue.
Each cutter is secured by a captive, pivoting, and thumb
screw-activated lever
cap. I've seen several of the lever caps broken down below
the pivot point
and/or chipped at the leading edge of the lever cap, so keep
an open eye about
this area. The lever caps are attached to the main casting
with a screw, so
it's possible to make a proper repair by snarfing a part
from another example
that's otherwise terminal. Also, check the main casting as
it can sometimes be
found with a crack or chip down along the fence or one of
the 'soles'.
Many of the planes
have
replaced cutters, with the grooving cutter lifted from a #45. The
tonguing cutter is unique to the plane and it has a
slightly radiused heel.
Again, this cutter can sometimes be found as a replacement
from a #45. If you see
a notch cutout along the right side of the cutter, up
toward the heel, it's a
replacement.
I think these planes are uncomfortable to use, not so
much on the right
hand, but on the left since it's the leading hand that has
to find some sort of
tolarable grip on a chunk of metal that bends back toward
your right hand. I
prefer the good ol' wooden ones, which don't suck the heat
out of your hands on
a cold day like these do. Plus, wooden planes don't rust or
suffer plane
leprosy (peeling nickel plating) like these do.
The first models of this plane, and its two smaller
brothers, has the patent
date, "PAT'D JAN 20-03", embossed in the handle. A japanned
version
of this plane was offered during WWII. It's not very common,
but good luck
finding the one collector who gives a rat's butt about it.
This is one of Stanley's true rarities. Call me collect, if you ever find one.
Imagine taking the #62, and making it shorter, only
to find that there is
no room for the cutter adjustment mechanism. What do you
do? Why, you take the
conventional horizontally mounted Bailey adjustment, and
mount it vertically.
Problem solved? Nope. Bad managment decision here. The
plane was a horrible
flop, but those that did sell found more happy homes over
in England than they
did here in USofA, where we must be smarter it seems.
This plane has all the features the #62 does - an adjustable mouth, a
rosewood knob and
tote, and a cutter pitched at 12 degrees. It also suffers
the same problem that
the #62 does - the mouth can easily chip and the bottom
of the rosewood knob
can breakout due to frequent adjusting of the mouth. The
distinguishing
characteristic of this plane, other than the number "164"
cast into
it, is that the lever cap carries the brass depth
adjustment wheel and the
corresponding depth adjustment fork. The fork catches a
slot cut in a hybrid
cap iron secured to the cutter. This cap iron is not on
the cutter to break the
shaving (this is still a block plane with its cutter bevel
side up), but only
to adjust the cutter. It's very much like the cap iron
found on the #9, #11, #11 1/2, and #25, but it
differs from those in that it has graduations marked on
it.
Another stupid plane brought to you by a company known for many nightmares come to life. But wait, there are more soon to come, I promise. The New Britain Stinktank had no shame dumping all sorts of offal onto the tool-hungry masses of America.
This plane was designed to make the mortices that are
commonly found on
doors; things like butt hinges, face plates, strike plates,
escutcheons, etc.,
were its intent. Sorta like Norm's clever contraption for
his 'lectrical
routah, is what it does. It cuts mortices up to 3" wide and
5/16" deep.
There are two opposing rosewood totes to this plane,
which give it a
resemblance to the #148 style of planes. But, that's were the similarity
ends. This plane has
an adjustable fence, which can be removed to make the
plane work as a
conventional router. It has three different cutters, 3/8",
5/8", and
7/8" wide, which are screwed to an adjustable center post.
Directly above
the cutter is a coil spring that helps the cutting action;
it is often missing
or broken. There are two holes, one to each end of the
plane, that allow a
wooden sole (workman supplied) to be mounted onto the
plane.
In an early advertisement of the plane, Stanley
stated that the tool
"might very properly be termed a mechanical chisel." I term
it a
piece of mechanical crap. I hate this plane, but not nearly
as much as those
that are soon to follow.
This is the first in a
series of cheap rabbet planes. They all resemble the #78, except
that there is no bullnose bed, nor is there a fence (these
are rabbet planes,
afterall). A large thumb screw activates the lever cap to
secure the cutter in
place, just like the #78's way of doing it.
Both sides of the plane are ground flat, so it can be
used either left or
right handed. The right side of the plane has depressions
cast into it to
minimize the amount of area that had to be machined flat.
There is not much
else that distinguishes these boring planes. They are
useful, though I like
wooden ones much better. As is the case with the wooden
rabbet planes, a batten
must be laid on the wood's surface in order to regulate the
width of the cut.
The planes are japanned, with the later ones having
nickel plated trim (the
lever cap thumb screw and the depth stop thumb screw being
the nickel plated
parts). The planes have a bit of floral decoration cast into
the tote (kinda
reminds me of what you would see on a hearse or something
like that) just like
that used on the #78's. Toward the end of the
plane's production, the
tote was redesigned to have the fish scale pattern cast
into the tote, and
these models of the plane are found less often than those
with the floral
motif.
The depth stops are often missing from these planes.
You can snag a depth
stop from a #78, but seeing how many #78's are missing their stops as
well, you may have to
look awhile until you find one. If this plane is missing
the iron and/or lever
cap, you can pilfer one from a #78 since both are the same width
across the two
models. This plane never came with a depth adjuster, but
that matters not one
bit since the iron from any model of the #78 will fit this plane and its
spur-happy brother, the
#190.
However, if you want the plane to appear original, you
don't want to use an
iron from a #78 that has the milled slots in
the back.
Because they have no spur attached to the right side,
the planes didn't sell
nearly as well as the series that did - #190, #191, #192 - and Stanley finally
punted them from their
product line once some Einstein realized a spur is a nice
thing on a rabbet
plane (the wooden rabbet planes could also be bought
without a spur, so it must
have been a preference thing back then).
Same as the #180, except it is narrower, and because of this you need to inspect the iron and lever cap as they may be ground down from the wider #180 to function as a replacement. If you see milled slots in the backside of the iron, it's not original to this or any other plane of the series.
Same as the #181, except it is narrower. If this plane is missing its iron and/or lever cap, you're SOL until you can find one from a basket case example. This model uses captive lever caps that are held to the plane with a screw, like the #39 series uses. The lever cap can snap down at it bottom, where it places pressure on the lever cap, so check for that damage.
Identical to the #180, except that this one has a spur, on its right side (ahead of the cutter), to score the grain. The astute observer will note that this plane far outlasted the #180, due to the simple feature of the spur. Apparently, this was lost on Stanley, where a spur is very nice to have on general purpose rabbet planes that are designed for rougher work, like these are.
This plane, and the two that follow, parallel the #180 series in casting
changes.
This plane is like the #78W, used to cut special rabbets for the installation of standard width weather stripping. It has a removable bottom guide that acts like a fixed fence.
Same as the #181, except it has a spur.
Same
as the #182, except it has a
spur.
Drumroll, please. We're about to view life from the tool gutter, so don your snorkel, and make sure your shots are current. It's time to go under.
But first, a precautionary note is in order. If you
should ever handle one
of these pieces of New Britain offal, be sure to do so with
the protection of
rubber suit and gloves. Handling them without such
preventive measures requires
immediate sterilization of any and all exposed flesh, lest
you be struck dead
in mere minutes by a particularly virulant strain of the
plane pox. You have
been warned!
Let's just say that this plane is an utter piece of junk, which Stanley made to cash-in on the tacky fibre board craze of the 1930's and leave it at that. Oh, this, and the next 3 are my most favorite planes to hate, in the whole wide world, right up there next to anything made by the Shelton Plane and Tool Co. Mere words fail to express just how much I loathe these planes.
Same as above except it has more junk with it to make that fibre board even more attractive. If you have one of these planes, and are wondering what parts came with it, or are even looking for the parts, you need more help than I can possibly give you.
Now it's time for a true story - no names were
changed to protect the
innocent. Or the guilty.....
One day, while out dumpster diving, looking for
bottles I could return to
claim the 5 cents deposit (10 cents in Michigan), I stumbled
upon one of these
guys. Startled, I whipped out my handy digicam, and took the
following
photograph of it in situ. Not wanting to touch it, for fear
of catching some
dreadful and incurable disease, I poked at what laid before
my eyes with a
stick to rearrange it. If you look closely, you can see all
the parts that came
with this tool (and I hesitate to call it that) which no one
will ever boast of
owning when the topic of collectible tools comes up at the
local bistro. Image
is below. Don't email me bomb threats if you turn to stone,
ok?
ZOINKS! Even more stuff to make your fibre board the best on the block! The previous three planes are the ne plus ultra of Rube Goldberg plane design, winners of the prestigeous That's Incredible/Why'd They Do That Award for 60 consecutive years. Do America a favor and destroy every one of the above three models you may encounter, so that its competition might have a fighting chance in this year's awards. Please?
Oh joy, another plane for fibre board, but this one is special (can you say special?). It cuts a chamfer up to 3/8"W on fibre board. One woulda thought world peace was at hand with the introduction of this marvelous piece of technology, where folks worldwide would busy themselves with bevelling fibre board all day. But, no, we had two wars to suffer through during its production. Hmmm, is there a cause and effect here, somewhere?
The
setting - The
Stanley Board Room, President speaks, "Hey, fellas, let's
make a plane
that bevels hard board." Underlings respond, "Swell idea
chief! It
will sell like hotcakes!" Wrong, guys. You can't make shit
shine. The only
redeeming thing about this plane is that it's rare and
collectible. I would
never stoop so low to own one. They and the #194 are butt ugly!
OK, we're back. Hope you didn't suffer terribly while
viewing Stanley's
sphacelous underbelly.
Here's a funky plane that
makes you wonder how it works, and why it was ever invented.
But invent it J.W.
Montague did. Stanley even embossed their name and the model
number along the
right side of the main casting, so they must have thought it
a good idea.
This plane is designed to cut a curved rabbet (both
on an outer edge and an
inner edge, like on a picture frame) - something that every
woodworker is
chomping at the bit to do, day in and day out. That's why
this plane was
offered for sooooooooooo long. Sorry, Stanley, it was a dud
as curved rabbets
ain't that common, and by the time the thing made its debut,
there were
machines that could do the job. "Too stupid and too late" is
this tool's
epitaph.
It's kind of an ugly looking plane that sort of
resembles a modified #39 (the dado
planes), and uses the same sort of lever cap to hold the
iron in place as the
dado plane series uses; i.e., a lever cap that is held to
the main casting with
a screw. Check that the lever cap shows no damage or
repairs as it's possible
to snap this style of lever cap. Also make sure that the
rightmost edge of the
lever cap is flush with the machined surface on the right
of the plane.
It has a #78-like tote, which is textured in the typical style
of the planes
produced during this era - a fish scale like surface.
Directly in front of the
tote is a #45-like cutter adjustment wheel,
with a pin that
engages a cutout in the cutter. The cutter adjusting
mechanism is held captive
to the main casting by means of two loop-like projections
arising just in front
of the tote. Check for any signs of cracks or repairs on
the projections.
The cutter is set at a skew, and is is actually two
cutters, one on top of
the other. The lower cutter, which cuts across the width of
the rabbet, is
similar to the cutter of the #78 in that it widens to the right
just above the
cutting edge. The upper cutter is rather angular at the
business end, and its
rightmost edge acts as a spur to score the grain to leave
the side of the
rabbet cleanly cut. The rest of the upper cutter has a
bevel across the bulk of
its width so that it acts like a cap iron. These two
cutters are secured
together with a screw that's positioned below the lower
cutter. The heel (top)
of the lower cutter has the notch cutout.
The plane has a very short 'sole', roughly 1" long so
that the plane
can accomplish its function over differing radii. Directly
behind the sole, the
main casting arches upward and then straightens out along
the rest of the
casting. The main casting is fashioned this way so that
there is no hindrance
as the plane follows the contour of the piece, especially
when cutting rabbets
on an inner edge.
The depth and width of
the rabbet are regulated by two adjustable mechanisms
forward of the cutter.
One acts as a fence to follow the contour of the work, and
the other acts as a
depth stop. The fence measures roughly 1/2" long and has a
slight curve to
it. The depth stop, very much like those used on the #45, has a
slight curvature at its leading edge. Each of these is
adjusted by turning a
captive screw (one for each), and is then secured in
position by a thumb screw.
Check the casting about the area of the captive screws for
any breakage or
cracks.
Both the fence and depth stop are carried on a
removable nose piece, which
is secured to the plane's body with a slotted screw. The
nose piece is removed
when doing confined or bullnose work. The joint between the
nose piece and the
main casting is a broad tongue and groove, similar to the
way the Bed Rock frog
mates with its receiver. I've seen a few planes that have a
hairline crack in
the nose piece's casting, where it mates with the main body,
so check that area
thoroughly.
These planes are too valuable to use, but if you have
more money than
brains, and want to use this contraption, you'll find it a
funky beast unless
the cutter and spur are both very sharp and that they are
set finely. When you
get frustrated at the thing, you can always pack it in your
backpack when
mountain climbing as all that nickel plating makes it a
better reflector than
it is a tool.
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Copyright
(c) 1998-2012 by Patrick A. Leach. All Rights Reserved.
No part may be
reproduced by any means without the express written
permission of the author.