Looking at these first test stitches made by a 1918 Singer 99K, you would not be able to tell that two days previously I was hardly able to turn the wheel. This is the machine which has the improvised repair, the thread guide made from a safety pin.
The next big problem was that the mechanism was well and truly gummed up; in fact, so stiff that I was nervous of turning the handle too much in case I suddenly discovered a bit of hidden metal fatigue. The last thing I wanted was a snapped handle, so much of the time I was turning the wheel by hand.
First I cleared all the accumulated fluff from underneath the bobbin plate and needle plate and from behind the face plate. Next I cleaned up the stop motion screw and checked that the wheel was able to move freely. Then I gave the machine a very liberal oiling, and found that the movement was still very stiff, even after leaving the machine for hours to give the oil time to penetrate.
After a few turns the machine would start labouring. Somewhere there was a gummed up joint, but it wasn't obvious where just by looking. I could hear it creaking, and decided that the sound was coming from the bobbin mechanism underneath the machine.
One or more of these joints was objecting. The answer was paraffin, which I have used before to unstick stubborn parts. I wrapped a piece of old cotton rag around the entire bobbin mechanism, tied it with string, and soaked it with paraffin. Then I left it in place overnight, and this is how it looked the next morning - clean and very dry. The paraffin had removed all the fresh oil and all the old oil residue that was causing the problem. Once I had re-oiled underneath the machine, it turned freely.
Now that I was able to turn the handle, it was obvious that the handcrank needed more oil than I had already given it. Essentially, the handcrank is made up of two cogs, which both need oiling.
The lower cog is oiled next to the large central screw, just behind the handle. The cocktail stick shows the oil hole. Note mug of tea lurking in the background. It helps.
The upper cog is oiled at the top of the arm that connects the handcrank with the wheel.
The machine was then left overnight, and next morning all I needed to do was wipe off the excess oil, especially from behind the handle, where it oozes out, bringing out black muck that has been hiding there for years. If you are too enthusiastic, and turn the handle before dabbing off around it, you can end up getting splattered.
And finally I had the thrill of getting this machine sewing for the first time in decades. Beautiful stitches, every bit as good as I had hoped.
Linking up with Connie's blog Freemotion by the River for Linky Tuesday
Looking at a safety pin the other day, I realised that I had found the answer to the problem of the missing thread guide on the face plate that I showed last week. This cheap and nasty blunt safety pin got what it truly deserved. My husband's pliers double up as a nifty pair of wire cutters.
Next I used my jewellery pliers to bend the sides to fit inside the faceplate. The slight kink on the right was needed because the wire has to go over the pin that secured the original thread guide.
Next I poked it through the hole in the face plate and kept it in place with a couple of blobs of blue tack - this photo shows just one blob, before the second one went on.
Here is the inside once the blue tack is holding the improvised thread guide steady...
... ready for the wire on both sides to be covered with metal glue. I used J B Weld.
The glue needed to set overnight, so I put the face plate up on my bookshelf out of harm's way.
Although the glue was still a tiny bit tacky next morning, it was firm enough for me to put the face plate back on the machine.
While doing this repair it became apparent how the original thread guide must have been broken off. My theory is that the face plate was dropped face down onto a hard surface, so that the thread guide took the full force of the impact and was snapped off on the inside where it was attached to the plate. I must try not to let history repeat itself. I can just imagine dropping the plate face down and the wire popping out of the little beds of glue.
Now it seems worth giving the machine a thorough clean up. I just hope it turns out to be a good runner.
Linking up to Connie's blog Freemotion by the River for Linky Tuesday
Lots of machines look like this when I first get them - a bit sad and grubby. This is a 1918 Singer 99K that was given to my husband to bring home to see if I could get it going. The movement is incredibly stiff, and I have checked under the needle plate and found the usual wads of fluff. The face plate didn't look too bad...
... until I was about to take it off and realised what was missing.
For comparison, here is my 1927 99K, with the thread going through the hook which the other machine has lost.
How on earth did that happen? There is no sign of damage to the outside of the faceplate, nor on the inside, but somehow it came to grief.
Needless to say, that stopped me in my tracks with the clean up job. I am mulling over whether to try an improvisation with a hair grip and metal glue. Time will tell. There's no rush.
Update: No, I scrapped the idea of a hair grip - see the repair here.
It was only yesterday that I cleaned the holes in the bed of my 1927 Singer 99K and attached the seam guide for the first time. I had forgotten that I had never been able to get the screw in because the hole was gummed up.
Having had good results with paraffin when cleaning up a Naumann machine with a stuck foot, I decided to try the same method to clean out the holes. I twisted the ends of a very narrow strip of cotton material and poked them up through the bed of the machine from below.
Underneath, in the base of the machine, I put a little ramekin with a tiny amount of paraffin in it. Once the machine was lowered back into the base, the cotton strip was left lying in the paraffin. It acted as a wick, soaking up the paraffin and breaking down the residue that was gumming up the screw thread. I left the cotton strip in place for a few hours.
Then, after removing the strip, I dipped an interdental toothbrush in paraffin and thoroughly cleaned the inside of the hole. It only took a few minutes, and then I was able to get the screw in.
Success! Now I can use this machine with the seam guide.
And I even remembered to take the ramekin out of the base.
It was high time I lavished a bit of tender loving care on my stalwart 1945 15K treadle, which serves me so well for all my free motion quilting. The last time couple of times I have used it I haven't been sure whether it has been me feeling a bit slow and creaky, or the machine. Probably a bit of both.
The first job was to remove the faceplate to clean out a great accumulation of fluff, and tip the machine back and clean out the fluff from underneath.
Next, I oiled it at the various points shown in these photos of my 1949 Singer 15K hand machine. I made sure that I had removed the foot, because oil seeps down the presser bar and can take a while to clean off the foot. I could have removed the needle and needle clamp too, but I wasn't feeling particularly organised and methodical. I also oiled underneath the machine.
Once oiled, I gave it a quick spin, and then left it for a couple of days with strategically placed tissues under the wheel and round the needlebar and presser bar to catch and absorb excess oil.
All the old manuals recommend that after oiling a machine should be run hard, so the oil is well distributed. So yesterday I gave it a fast and furious spin - terrific fun with the face plate off so you can marvel at the movement. A table lamp was trained on the machine, the camera was resting on top of a tin, I had my finger on the shutter, and I was sitting at completely the wrong angle for treadling. I rather chuffed with myself that I managed to get a mini video done.
And here is one I made earlier...
While making this video the machine made a big bang, which sounds less than half as loud on video as it did in real life. I jumped out of my skin. For a split second I thought I had broken the needle. Then I realised that the presser bar had sprung itself down as a result of the vibrations and I had managed to record it on camera.
Moral of the story - run the machine hard with the foot off and presser bar down. Better for the machine, and for owners of a nervous disposition.
Linking up with Connie's blog Freemotion by the River for Linky Tuesday
This is the state of my Singer 15K treadle after a free motion quilting session. Every time I change a bobbin I check for fluff, and pull or blow out what I can see. I also have a pair of pointed tweezers which I use for pulling out the miniature hearth rugs that form under the feed dog teeth.
These little clouds of fibres around the needlebar and hopping foot are easy to get rid of.
It is interesting how the fluff works its way upwards...
... and inside the machine. The other day I took off the face plate, the first time for months, for a quick defluffing session. I was pleasantly surprised that it wasn't worse.
Welcome to Alessandra, the latest follower - thank you for joining!
A couple of days ago there was a nice comment from Anonymous saying how much she (or he?) has been enjoying using a Singer 28K, but now there is a problem with the needle mechanism disengaging of its own accord - at least that's how I understood the question. This is a problem I have had in the past with one of my machines. The answer was to clean up the stop motion screw and the washer behind it.
The first step is to take off the stop motion screw - the large silver disc at the centre of the balance wheel. These photos are of my Singer 201K treadle. With a hand machine you need to unscrew the whole hand crank assembly first to get at the stop motion screw properly.
First, loosen this small screw. There is no need to take it out completely - in fact, it is better not to. You don't want to wave good bye to it as it disappears down between the floorboards. Just loosen it so the head is no longer flush in its setting. Then you can unscrew the stop motion screw itself.
When you take it off you will see the tabbed washer underneath. If you are lucky, as I was this time, it will remain in place over the end of the shaft.
Usually it comes away with the stop motion screw because it sticks to the inside of it with old oil. Or it just drops away and ends up on the floor.
Once the washer is removed, any mucky residue of oil can be cleaned away from the head of the shaft, the washer and the inside of the stop motion screw.
It can take two or three attempts to get the washer back on the right way. The two tabs on the inside of the washer are at an angle.
On this photo they are pointing up towards the camera...
... and on this photo they are pointing down towards the table. Because this is a Singer part it is stamped with the trade name and part number on this side. This is the side that faces away from the stop motion screw and towards the main body of the machine.
As for the three tabs on the outside, they too have to be in the right position when replacing the washer on the machine. This post on the Vintage Singer Sewing Machine Blog has an excellent video showing how to make sure it is the right way.
So, getting back to Anonymous's problem...
Either the stop motion mechanism is sticking because it is gummed up with old oil, dust or sticky old rubbish inside...
...Or the little screw is not screwed in far enough to make the end protrude through to the other side. This end of the screw sits between two outer tabs. When you turn the stop motion screw clockwise, the washer is pushed that way by the end of the screw, and the needle mechanism engages. When you turn it anti-clockwise, you turn the washer back in the other direction and disengage the mechanism so you can wind your bobbins with the needle out of action.
So here is the plan of action for Anonymous:-
First check that the head of the small screw is flush with its setting.
If that doesn't cure the problem, take the stop motion screw off and give it a good cleaning. Paraffin should shift ancient sticky muck. Give the machine a good oiling when you reassemble the part.
Good luck!
Finally, welcome to the latest follower, the enigmatically named me - thank you for following!
Last week I collected a beautiful German sewing machine from a friend so I could clean it up for her. It had a few problems I needed to sort out, the most obvious of which was the foot. I undid the thumbscrew so I could take off the foot and found that the foot was stuck on fast. Someone had obviously been trying to get it off in the past and loosened the presser bar in the process, because it was loose and the foot could turn as if it were the hand on a clock. Tightening the presser bar back into position was easy enough, but I still needed to get the foot off.
The answer was paraffin. I tied a bit of cloth around the foot, spooned paraffin onto it until it was thoroughly soaked, and left it overnight. The next morning the foot just dropped off. The paraffin had broken up all the old oil residue that had dried between the presser bar and the foot.
The same trick worked at the opposite end of the machine and ungummed the stitch length mechanism too.
The machine is now cleaned up and raring to go...
And a truly hideous picture to match.
This was the state of the innards of the 15K inside the back inspection plate. Somebody decided they didn't need oil, so they just smeared the works liberally with vaseline. It might have kept the machine turning, but it also combined with (or possibly caused) a degree of rust, leaving a thick dark brown greasy deposit which smelt, not surprisingly, of vaseline and rust. I took this picture after I had already cleaned some of it off.
It was the same story when I took off the stop motion screw - loads of vile greasy muck was hiding behind it.
The remedy was a good scrubbing with an old toothbrush dipped in paraffin. I cleaned the back of the stop motion screw with neat washing up liquid.
The machine is now thoroughly cleaned and oiled and I am looking forward to giving it a good run.
At the moment I am cleaning up a 1949 Singer 15K hand machine. When I bought it the metalwork was unusually clean and it turned well. I polished up all the exterior metal and finally took off the faceplate yesterday. This is what I found.
The needlebar and presser bar are completely clean. There wasn't even any fluff in there, and none of the dried up residue of oil that is usually lurking behind the faceplate.
In this picture I have used a torch, so you can see there is a very thin yellowish film on the bars, so it must have been oiled at least once. But I doubt that it was regularly oiled, because there is no trace of residue underneath the machine either.
This is where the oil needs to be applied. The tops of the needlebar and presser bar are tubular and have wads of felt inside, which act as a reservoir for the oil.
Today I will be giving a generous soaking of oil to the felt at the top of the bars.
So if the machine was dry of oil behind the faceplate and underneath, why did it turn so well when I bought it? All will be revealed tomorrow...
If you need to take off the tension discs for any reason, here's how. The photographs are of my 1897 Singer 28K.
First, unscrew the nut at the front.
Next take off the spring.
Now the thumb tab.
Now the first tension disc.
And the second.
Here you can see how the tension spring is held in the correct position.
And here are all the parts ready to be put back on again, laid out in the order they were taken off, with the front-facing side facing up.
The cloth plate is so big that there is plenty of room for all sorts of information to be stamped on it, including this handy table showing recommended needle sizes and stitch lengths for different threads.
This photograph was taken before I cleaned the machine because it is easier to see what is stamped on it when there are not too many reflections.
It was no surprise when the ancient leather belt, all cracked and stretched, came apart at the join. It was a bit frustrating because I had drowned the works with oil and needed to turn the machine.
I have heard that the emergency repair for a broken fan belt in a car is a pair of tights. The same principle applied here. The temporary belt is a strip cut from across the leg of an old pair of tights. The great bonus was that I had a circular strip, so there was no need to make a join.
It looks rather smart in black. It matches the machine.
It didn't take long to get the metal to shine.
When I was cleaning the foot I realised that it has a bar and groove so you can use it as a braiding foot. Where I would find tiny narrow braid today I can't begin to think. Six stranded embroidery thread just fits through.
I finally made a start today. Now I can really enjoy the trademark on the badge, a big W made with needles, and the G is the sewing machine.
Here it is before I got busy with the metal polish. All that nasty tarnish came off in a trice.
