This is probably the best No. 51/52 pair we’ve come across. Essentially flawless, meticulously maintained, and entirely complete and original. Silky patina, japanning 98-99%. It’s hard to get full sentences out gawking at these stunners. They manage to be simultaneously gorgeous and badass. The words aren’t doing them justice, so we’ve included an abundance of pictures for your viewing pleasure. Try not to drool.

The shelf that gets the honor of displaying this set is one lucky shelf. But why stop at displaying it? Use it too! Shoot some miters bang-on 45. Shoot some stock dead square. Shoot some….whoa, this is starting to sound violent. Play a peaceful game of Chutes & Ladders. I think we wandered off track.

We’d be surprised if we got our hands on a better example.

Hold. The. Phone. This No. 56 is phenomenal!

“Rare” gets slapped on pretty much anything to boost sales these days. Probably days other than these, too. We just can’t say for sure. Anyway, our point is the word has been overused to the point of becoming its own antonym. What nonsense are we spouting with this word geekery? Read on; a clue lies within.

Not wanting to contribute to the unfortunate ubiquity of the word “rare,” we rarely bestow that label around here. Cue laugh track. It’s okay if you slapped your knee laughing at our horrible pun. Sad, but okay.

Yikes, we wandered way off the path there. Back on track, what we’re trying to say is that these planes actually are pretty rare in planeland. Think about it. How many people could have possibly been buying these floating cocktail weenies when Stanley made them? Evidently, not many people, since Stanley only offered them from 1909-1923, or thereabouts. We doubt many people even had a clue what this boxy little beauty was supposed to do. It cores boxes? Say what? You mean apples?

The digressions seem to be getting worse rather than better. And redundant now too! So we’ll just point you to the many pictures of this No. 56 and sum up with this: Original. Complete. Whoa, rosewood. Whoa, japanning. Triple whoa, V logo iron. WOW.

We don’t often use words like “fine” and phrases like “near mint” (We like to think that’s because we don’t want to seem pretentious, but that explanation doesn’t fly when you pick a pompous-ass name like “The Tool Archive” for your shop!).

But whatever our reasons for using such antiquey terms sparingly, those reasons don’t apply here. This No. 2-C is, indeed, both fine and near-mint. About as nice as they come.

Type two, cast steel body with 7-3/4” dovetailed sole. Rosewood fill. Original 2-1/4” Norris iron. Slight loss of finish on the tote and light pitting on the sole, but no damage or issues. Beautiful, pre-war plane from the Rolls Royce of plane makers.

Basically flawless. Around 99% of the original japanning remains intact. Cheeks appear to have had some degree of cleaning/rust removal performed, but the work blends well and does not read as recently or aggressively cleaned. Effectively perfect rosewood tote and knob, with just a hint of honest wear.

We’re speechless.

Call it whatever you like: “Skinny Jack,” “Junior Jack,” “Little John,” “Bruce,” whatever. You pick it. Doesn’t matter (except it’s kinda weird if you pick Bruce).

No matter what, the fact remains that it’s a slender version of the crowd favorite Jack plane, in a Bedrock (or Bed Rock) version! Yes, you read that correctly. A Bedrock 605-1/4! The hot, hot, hottest trend of the season! A must-have! Everyone wants one.

We want one! And yet we’re selling one of ours to you. Why? Because we want to help you be cool and fit in. There’s simply no better way to be cool and fit in than strutting around after the woodworking guild meeting chatting it up with your pals holding this baby in your hand. Everyone will love you and envy you at the same time. Major ego boost.

Just keep the plane tight in your hand. Don’t leave it unattended. Not even for a minute. Not even if you have to go to the bathrom. If you take your eyes off this plane for one second, that Larry guy who always talks too much during show-and-tell will probably steal it. And whenever Larry steals someone’s tools, it causes a big commotion at the Guild. We don’t need that again. Not so soon.

The japanning on this plane is incredibly intact and nice, except for some specks of white and red paint in a few spots. The rosewood furniture is fantastic. Just look at that tote. Primo. Add to that a nice, evenly thick casting, sporting a designer patina and you almost forget about the f*#&ing hang hole behind the tote. Whoever fired up the drill to achieve the minor convenience of being able to hang this plane like butchered meat clearly didn’t realize it was going to be a collector’s item. Oh well, c’est la vie. Still an incredible plane. All the rage.

According to The Fine Tool Journal/Brown Tool Auctions, the Chaplin’s Patent board is “A very rare shoot board.” This one is an exceptional, totally original board and matching plane. We’ll shut up and let the photos do the talking.

Excellent, though refinished, condition. Flawless rosewood. Sweetheart logo on the iron.

Do you constantly find yourself banging your knuckles into a bloody pulp when trying to scrape a cabinet with a normal-handle scraper? Of course you do, because that rigid handle is inherently inflexible, unwilling to accept change, and unwilling to confront its own shortcomings. Well, that’s a thing of the past. Rigid handles are the old way. Introducing the other old way: tilt-handled, flexible, adaptable, friendly, and maybe a little quirky, the No. 85 contortionist is the answer your knuckles have been looking for since they were baby knuckles.

But don’t actually use this one. Don’t touch it either. It’s a collectible piece, too dignified to work for its meals. If you like high-maintenance entitlement, meet your new best friend. Damn loyal, though. Always there to get you out of a scrape. (hehe, hehe, funny).