More on the overflexing of vintage nibs

I've been sounding the alarm about the abuse of flexible nibs for years now, and though others have also tried to spread the word, far too many irreplaceable vintage nibs are still being destroyed by being pushed far beyond their safe limits. The simple fact is that even very flexible vintage nibs were only meant to open up in routine use by a millimeter or so. 

A recent post by Otto Yang in the Facebook group Vintage Flex Fountain Pens rekindled the discussion in a big way. Otto shared a selection of 19th and early 20th-century handwriting in support of the observation that normal writing of the era was quite restrained when it came to line width variation, and that pushing vintage nibs to line width variations of 2 mm or more is far beyond what they were ever intended to handle. This was all well and good -- but things really blew up when, primed by this still-ongoing conversation, a seller was publicly called out for heedlessly posting in the same group an advertisement promoting the exact sort of extreme nib abuse under discussion. 

The pen community is small and congenial, and up until now the desire to keep the peace has prevented most such confrontations. Yet given that sellers have been given ample notice (though it may be that many never bother reading or otherwise participating in the groups in which they hawk their wares) such an intervention is long overdue. As long as sellers are allowed to brazenly mislead buyers about the capabilities of vintage nibs without being publicly challenged, the destruction of old nibs will continue. 

An unfinished Waterman nib

Unfinished nibs don't turn up that often. This one is a 1940s Waterman nib for a Taperite, which has been shaped, imprinted, and tipped, but hasn't had its slit cut or tip ground.

At first glance, it might seem that there is no tipping yet attached. The tip is visibly thicker, yet it seems to be all of the same 14K gold alloy as the rest of the nib, whether viewed from above or below. This, however, neatly illustrates how older gold nibs were often tipped -- and especially those with wider oblong tips.

Rather that welding a pellet onto the very tip of the gold nib blank, the tipping material was attached to the underside of the tip, enclosing the tipping material with molten gold. The tip was then ground, revealing and shaping the tipping material under the gold. Where the tipping would not have to be exposed to contact the writing surface, the gold was left intact, wrapping around the tipping for maximum support (a description of the process from 1912 can be found here). This is why the tipping on many older nibs is barely visible from the top of the nib -- which has sometimes led to the mistaken impression among those accustomed to modern fountain pens that the vintage tipping is worn down and not fully intact.

While the most dramatic examples of this are to found in early 20th-century stub and italic nibs from makers such as Waterman and Mabie Todd, the Sheaffer display from c. 1940 shown above also nicely illustrates another variation of the same basic procedure.

PS This is a good opportunity to point out that this method of nib manufacture can make it very challenging for a restorer to retip an older nib so that it looks 100% original -- or even to retip it at all. It's not widely appreciated that retipping that preserves an old nib's appearance requires the addition of gold to the tip before new tipping is attached (old retips were done without adding gold, leaving the retipped nib's proportions awkwardly shortened). It's also not widely appreciated that many highly flexible vintage nibs were thinned after tipping, sometimes leaving the gold of the tines so thin as to make attachment of new tipping almost impossible without burning holes in the gold.

Replacement Duofold arrow-imprint nibs

One thing new collectors soon learn about Parker Duofolds -- Senior and Junior sizes, in particular -- is that a large number are now found with later nibs. Whereas the original nibs from the 1920s and 1930s bear a PARKER/DUOFOLD imprint, these replacements are marked with an arrow similar to that used on the nibs of Vacumatics. Though these are often called Vacumatic nibs, those found on Senior-size Duofolds are something different: they are shaped completely differently from Vacumatic nibs, and if you want to get really into details, the arrow has a different number of feathers. In fact, these nibs were specifically made as replacements. If you pull one out of its section, you'll typically see two stamps, "R" denoting "replacement", and a star indicating coverage under the original Duofold guarantee (see the 1946 and 1947 Parker Service Manuals, pp. 44-5 and pp. 57-8 respectively). When you find an older Duofold with one of these factory replacement nibs, it will inevitably be mounted with a replacement comb feed, which Parker considered an improvement over and upgrade from the original "spearhead" feed.

I have not made a systematic study of these nibs as yet. Going through examples on hand, I found none earlier than 1941. Quite a few bear date codes for 1946 and 1951, suggesting significantly larger production runs in those years. This may have been due to a surge of postwar repair demand, but could also reflect Parker's practice of periodically clearing out stocks of older spare parts by assembling them into complete pens.

ADDENDUM: Arrow nibs found in 1920s and 1930s Duofold Juniors do seem to be standard Vac nibs with added stamps to the heel. I'll follow up on this to confirm, and will update in a few days.

Early examples of replacement Senior nibs, date codes for first quarter and last quarter 1941. Production clearly began before the USA's entrance into WW2.

These nibs were produced throughout the war years. These examples are dated 1944 and 1945.

Postwar nibs are more common, however: these are from 1946 and 1948. Parker clearly took customer service seriously, continuing to provide warranty support for their former flagship pens decades after they were originally sold.

Greek nib breaththrough

It's now been several years since I posted on a mysterious group of early 20th-century American-made pens with Greek imprints. Not having worked on them in the interim, it was an especially pleasant surprise to have received this note from my fellow pen enthusiast Panos, reproduced here in full with his permission and my gratitude:

---

Dear David,

I hope you are keeping well in these difficult times.

I'm writing you because I believe that I can offer a humble contribution to your blog on the subject of the "Greek Nib" pens article
(https://vintagepensblog.blogspot.com/2013/05/greek-nib-followup.html).

I actually read your article for the first time a couple of years ago (or perhaps more), but it was only recently that I decided to do a little research of my own on the subject. After all, speaking the Greek language provides a certain advantage in such cases…

After completing my research, I can safely say that the reason, for which you were unable to discover any information on these pens, is that you are looking for the wrong name…. But, let us look into this in detail.

Indeed the pens in question were produced by the Kritikaki Brothers, which appear to have been active members of the Greek community in N.Y., and many of their customers must have been fellow Greek New Yorkers of the time. I have no information for a potential reseller in Greece, for these pens, but I suppose that Greek-Americans of the time may have brought their pen(s), or some pens as presents to relatives and friends, back to Greece on one of their visits. One way or another, this explains why one of the pens mentioned in your article, was "rediscovered" in Greece.

Now, it was more than often the case (and still is) that immigrants changed their names as part of their integration to the society they lived in. After all, the number of native English speakers that can properly pronounce Greek names must be minute in our days, and certainly, back then, in the beginning of the 20th century N.Y., it must have made the grand total of…. none at all. And this is, admittedly, not good for business… So, among the Greek community the company was known as the "ΑΔΕΛΦΟΙ ΚΡΗΤΙΚΑΚΗ" (Kritikaki Brothers), but to the general American public, they were the... "KRITIKSON BROTHERS" or "KRITIKSON BROS."! And although the Greek flags and the references to Beautiful Greece must have appealed to the customers from the Greek-American community, they also had pens for the rest of the American public.

But let's look at the actual evidence…

The weekly magazine "Η ΝΙΚΗ" of 17/08/1913  (The title means "The Victory" and we have to note that during the period of 1912-1913 Greece and its neighbours were awfully busy fighting the Balkan Wars, and thus both the title and many articles of the publication seem to depict this). I also like the typo in the title page (which only exists in this particular issue of the magazine, so it is indeed a typo) : "PUBLISHED BY THE GREEK BUBLISHING CO."

So, in its second [to] last page we have the advertisement for the model No 58, a black chased pen, featuring two gold plated bands with the Greek and the American flag. By the way "ΜΕΛΑΝΟΦΟΡΟΣ" actually means that the pen carries its own ink, and not that it has a black cladding. The thing that probably confused you is that the ancient (but also the modern) Greek word for "ink" comes from the ancient Greek word for "black", probably because the ink of the old times used to be always black…. But perhaps the most intriguing fact is that the advertisement states that their catalogue (which they are happy to send to you for free) contains 75 different kinds (of pens)!

By the way, I believe that you are right about the pen featuring King Constantine I. It must have been a  commemorative edition, for the accession of the king to the throne. He was also very successful in leading the Greek army during the Balkan Wars, and thus he must have been very popular among the Greeks in general. You can also see him on page 3 of the same magazine above "commanding an officer of his entourage".

Now, things become more interesting in this advertisement from the N.Y. Greek newspaper "ΑΤΛΑΝΤΙΣ" ("Atlantis", first appeared in 1894), from the 1st of January 1914. Here the Kritikson Brothers propose gifts from the new year's day (Greeks traditionally exchanged gifts on the first day of the new year, and not on Christmas) and it has a list of different models, including No 58.

I shall try to translate the model descriptions - Note that the description is using the word "jewel" where - I suppose - we would use the words "pattern" or "design" these days :

No 182. GOLD DECORATED. Gold plated with bright bands. $4.50
No 444. FLOWER DECORATED. Gold decoration with jewels depicting clover. $6.00
No 312. CLUSTER DECORATED. Gold plated in its entirety with clusters of colourless Greek and American flags. $6.50
No 121. GOLD BAR DECORATED. Gold plated in its entirety with clusters of bars. $7.00
No 484. FLOWER DECORATED. Gold plated in its entirety with jewels of orange tree flowers. $7.50
No 390. RIBBON DECORATED. Gold plated with ribbon like jewels. $6.50
No. 642. FLOWER WREATH DECORATED. Gold plated with wreaths of flowers and
branches. $9.00
No 560. VARIOUS DECORATIONS. Gold plated with various different jewels. $9.00
(Number missing) FLOWER DECORATED. Gold decorations with jewels depicting violets (Viola odorata). $6.50
No. 58. Black chased with two beautiful gold plated bands on which the Greek and the American flags are engraved $2.50 - With only one band $1.50. (note here that in the 1913 advertisement, the price of $1.50 was without any bands).
No. 805. Gold plated in its entirety, with square jewels.
No. 810. Gold plated in its entirety with jewels of squares and flowers.
No. 815. Gold plated in its entirety with jewels depicting stars.
No. 800. Gold plated in its entirety with jewels depicting flowers (which look suspiciously like fleur-de-lys, in other words, lilies).

Finally, and as all the pens appear to be clipless, the note at the end reads "Clip for the protection of the pen, gold plated 50c, nickel 15c".

Also, notice the nibs of the pens. I see mainly three different versions: - One with the letters A K, standing for the Greek version of their name ("ΑΔΕΛΦΟΙ ΚΡΗΤΙΚΑΚΗ"). - One with the letters K B, standing for the English version of their name ("KRITIKSON BROTHERS") - And the ones featuring all or some of the following: the Greek flag, the words "Η ΩΡΑΙΑ ΕΛΛΑΣ" (The Beautiful Greece), and the initials A K.

So far so good. But what happened to the Kritikson Brothers of New York? Well, it seems that they became the Kritikson Brothers of Chicago, and that they concentrated on producing their patented SECURITY PEN. I suppose that it was a good idea, as it would be very difficult to compete with companies like Waterman and Parker….

So, their Security Pen patents were filed between 1919 and 1921…
https://patents.google.com/?assignee=KRITIKSON+BROS+Inc

Security pens do not feature the Greek flag nibs, of course, and in the English language advertisements there is no mention of the Greek name of the brothers or anything like that…..

But, have a look at this advertisement in the Atlantis of 1921, providing the missing link…

The advertisement has the title "Where can I get one?", referring to the wonderful "SECURITY" CHECK PROTECTOR PEN, and, after enumerating the awesome features related to the pen (mechanism, nib, feeder and clip), it goes on to say "All the above features are PATENTED INVENTIONS of (the) Brothers Kritikaki, having 17 years of experience in this field and having founded, three years ago, the company "SETTLES PEN COMPANY" with a capital of $250,000. The factory is one of the largest and one of the most perfect in America, with annual production of 500,000 pens." It goes on to mention a provided 5-year warranty and prices of the pens. Interestingly, the pens were also available without the CHECK PROTECTOR, in which case they were lowered by $1.00. It also says that they  are seeking for partners in America and abroad.

So, we also learn that the Kritikaki Brothers were related to the SETTLES pens as well! And their 17 years experience means that they were involved in the fountain pen manufacturing since 1904!

Alright, I think this is enough research for this week! Surely this info does answer a good number of questions, and you may feel free to use it to expand your original article. On my side, I am glad that I seem to have discovered a previously unknown (?) Greek contribution to the fountain pen saga. Sadly, none of the Kritikakis Brothers' pens have made it to my
limited collection so far. Perhaps one day…

Regards,
Panos.

---

As noted in the previous articles, the pens offered by the Kritikson/Kritikaki Brothers during their early years in New York were made by other companies, such as Aikin Lambert and Eagle. It was only later that they began manufacturing on their own.

For those delving into the later history of the brothers, this account is found on p. 104 of Walden's Stationer and Printer, vol. 45 (November 1921), describing a tour of the factory by the former Prime Minister of Greece. The brothers are described as "native Greeks". For some reason Settles is misspelled as "Settels" throughout this volume.

In the following issue (December 1921, p. 64) there is some further biographical information on the brothers. Of particular interest is the mention of them buying "a few job lots of seconds from the factory which they assembled at home in the evening". From the phrasing it is not entirely clear, but it would seem to be saying that the seconds came not from Waterman, where John worked, but from the other, unnamed factory where George was employed.

Anomalous Aikin Lambert fountain pen nibs

As prior research has shown, until well into the 20th century almost all American fountain pen manufacturers bought their nibs from specialist suppliers. Even some of the largest and most successful companies did not bring nib manufacture fully in-house until the 'teens or twenties. Exactly who was making what for whom and when remains a puzzle that will take years to put together, but we can be sure that certain companies with a long history of gold dip pen nib production were not only making nibs for themselves. One such company is Aikin Lambert, which was taken over by Waterman from around 1906, but which was working closely enough already in the 1880s to have their nibs listed alongside Fairchild's in the charts in Waterman flyers showing which size nibs went with which holders. Not surprisingly most Aikin Lambert fountain pen nibs closely resemble Waterman-marked nibs. They have similar proportions and have heart-shaped vent holes. But there are exceptions which make the experienced collector sit up and take notice.

The nib at left has a very distinctive keyhole pierce, identical to those found on Parker Lucky Curve pens of the first and second decades of the 20th century. Offhand I cannot think of any other contemporary pen brand with a pierce anything like it. What does this suggest regarding where Parker was getting at least some of its nibs?

The nib in the center has an oval pierce that is also distinctive, albeit not to the same degree. While it also recalls Parker-marked nibs, similar pierces are also found on gold dip nibs from multiple makers. I have included it here nonetheless, circumstantial as its evidence may be.

The nib at right has a pierce at least as distinctive as the keyhole. Star-shaped pierces on gold nibs are virtually unique to Fairchild, with it generally accepted that the few known examples of early Waterman nibs with such pierces were Fairchild-made (Fairchild being Waterman's first documented nib supplier). So what is such a pierce doing on a nib made by a rival firm? I can only speculate that any earlier rivalry dating back to the dip pen era would have been history by the time this nib was made in the early 20th century, and that Aikin Lambert and Fairchild's nibmaking operations likely ended up converging under Waterman. We know that Waterman absorbed Aikin's nibmaking operation into their own by around 1910; so far, we know much less about the later history of Fairchild. This nib, however, suggests that by the 'teens Fairchild may no longer have been producing their own nibs -- suggesting in turn that their nibmaking operation had by then been sold to Waterman.

Charles N. Packard

I recently received a call from an old friend in the estate liquidation business. I hadn't seen him in a few years, and he'd accumulated a number of pens that he thought might be of interest. There were several dip pens in the group, with the largest shown above -- a well-used hard rubber holder, broken and mended, with a #10 Charles N. Packard nib (the small nib, included for scale, is from a Sheaffer Snorkel).

Packard nibs aren't all that common, so it seemed a good excuse to put together some information on their maker. We can start with a couple of obituaries; the one below appeared in the American Stationer, vol. 51, March 29, 1902, p. 27:

Additional details, including Packard's age, were provided by the New England Stationer and Printer, vol. 16, April 1902, p. 82:

According to the official Massachusetts death records, Packard died on March 11, 1902, from "Leucaemia: exhaustion". According to that same entry, he was born in Plainfield, to Royal L. Packard and Mercy Hersey. Packard is recorded in the 1900 census as married and living in Springfield, born in July 1833, and as of June 4, 1900, 66 years old. Other records include that of his marriage to Abbie B. Holmes, 22, on Jan 1, 1857 in Williamsburgh, where Packard is listed as a "Gold Pen Pointer", and of the death of his daughter Helen F. at the age of two months and fifteen days, of cholera, on July 8, 1872.

Despite what some have claimed, I can find no record of Packard ever having lived or worked in New York. There were other Charles Packards living in Massachusetts during our Charles Packard's lifetime, which might explain some of the confusion.

UPDATE: Packard does indeed appear to have spent time in New York. He is listed in volume 78 of Trow's directory for the year ending May 1, 1865 on p. 682, as "Packard Charles N. pens, 4 Maiden ln. h 142 E. 28th". His stay in New York is also mentioned in an article in the Boston Globe (October 27, 1901, p. 33) that is mostly about his astronomical clock. This article also recounts that Packard learned the trade of gold pen making in a Hampshire County factory -- in all likelihood, Dawson, Warren & Hyde. Packard does not appear in Trow's 1862 or 1872 editions; he would appear to have left New York for Springfield around 1871.

Instructional videos on nib straightening and repair

As online instructions on fountain pen repair continue to proliferate, one particular area remains largely left out: the reshaping of bent or maladjusted nibs. This has not gone unnoticed, and I've been particularly aware of the situation given my efforts to make affordable nib blocks available to the pen community.

Contrary to what some indignant posters claim, the lack of nib repair primers is not due to any unwillingness to share information. In fact, those who have nib repair expertise have often added helpful comments to online discussions about nib work (noting that all too often their input is then blithely ignored, as with the use of shims). The real problem is that the number of people who are truly expert nibworkers is much smaller than the number of those who are able to advise on more general pen repair questions, and they are almost all professionals or semiprofessionals with the inevitable constant backlog of work to be done. To expect them to take time off to compose free tutorials is unrealistic, and to blame them for not doing so is clearly out of line.

Nor can the skills being sought be easily taught. They are difficult enough to demonstrate and explain in person, much more so through the written word, and challenging even through video. Straightening nibs is all about dealing with complex curves in three dimensions, precisely controlling the stretching and compressing of the tempered gold. It's far from a matter of just making simple bends, or pressing sheet metal into forms. Taking out a bend is vastly more involved than putting one in, as anyone who has worked in metal will confirm.

In addition to all this, the work is done in small scale and under magnification, with the fingers and tools right on top of the workpiece. Taking photos or videos that adequately show the process is going to be tough indeed, and virtually impossible for the solo nibworker without bringing in an assistant  to do the camera work. Yes, it will happen eventually. But while you are waiting, know that it's not without good reason.

Nibs, flossing, and shims

Once upon a time, not so very many years ago, nib flossing was virtually unheard of. Yet nowadays flossing is one of the first things recommended in pen forums when solutions to ink flow problems are sought. Perhaps this is a function of the recent popularity of highly saturated boutique inks, and novelty inks with paint-like particulates ("shimmer" inks, for example). Indeed, with traditional inks, even a badly clogged pen's nib slit is easily cleaned with an ordinary detergent solution, with no need to force thin sheets of plastic or even metal between the tines.

For flossing is not risk-free. Plastic can leave residue behind, and metal can scratch the inner faces of the slit, affecting proper capillary ink flow. This is not so much an issue with brass shim stock used on stainless steel nibs, but on gold it is very much a concern. There is also the risk to the integrity of the nib's tipping, most pronounced with gold nibs with very fine tips. For nibs like the one below, sheet stock used for flossing should be introduced into the slit from the back end, not the tip, and removed in the same way.

Sideways pressure can easily detach the tipping on vintage nibs such as this Parker Vacumatic

Where things have really gotten out of hand, however, is in the use of shim stock to widen the slit. It's no accident that experienced pen professionals avoid this method, favoring careful bending of the tines instead. In addition to the risk of tipping loss and scarring of the inner faces of the slit, using a shim to force the tines directly apart in a horizontal plane puts enormous stress on the metal surrounding the vent hole. This may not be such an issue with a modern nib, made either of tough stainless steel or of thick gold that is soft and without any springiness. But with a vintage gold nib, tempered and resilient, it is all too easy to start a crack from the vent hole which will only grow as the nib is subjected to further use.

Vintage nibs with stress cracks from the vent hole

A hidden nib imprint

Slip-cap eyedropper-fillers are common enough in black hard rubber, and it's not unusual to see examples in mottled. Red hard rubber is another story.

When this pen came our way, it seemed possible that its maker could be identified by its details of construction, even though it was unmarked and carried a plain warranted nib. The cap with its circumferential groove looked somewhat Waterman-like, while the feed was not inconsistent with Aikin Lambert. The material, however, pointed in a different direction, as it was not a bright, clean orange but somewhat darker with black specks.

Identification ended up coming in an unexpected place: the underside of the nib, shown above. The imprint references US patent 772193, issued October 11, 1904 to De Witt C. Van Valer, and assigned to Frazer & Geyer. The patent describes a method of giving a gold nib resilience by compression using dies and a hydraulic press, rather than the traditional hammer-tempering.

Frazer & Geyer (also referred to as "Frazer Geyer" in contemporary records) manufactured fountain pens under their own name, the "Lincoln" being one of their best-known models. But not all Frazer & Geyer pens were so marked. Most notably, Frazer & Geyer became the maker of  A. A. Waterman pens by 1901, when William G. Frazer and Hobart W. Geyer formed a separate partnership with Arthur A. Waterman, as A. A. Waterman Co. (see Chapman v. Waterman, 1917). Although some have written that Arthur A. Waterman was forced out of the company by his partners in 1905, more recent research has shown that the dissolution of the partnership in May of that year was due instead to his partners' financial and legal issues. The Chapmans, who had been lending money to Frazer and Geyer, ended up taking over their interests in settlement, including both the Frazer & Geyer Company, and Frazer and Geyer's position in the A. A. Waterman Co.

So how to classify our pen? While it is closely connected with A. A. Waterman, calling it one is more than a bit of a stretch. Frazer & Geyer it will have to be -- though there is no telling whether it was made before or after the Chapmans took over the company. I'm inclined to after, however, judging from the contours of the cap and barrel. The pen is clearly modeled on the market leader, the Waterman 12, but on the version made towards the end of the decade and later, with flatter and less domical ends. And while we are discussing A. A. Waterman's copying of Waterman designs, I should also mention a couple of Waterman 20 clones that Dick Johnson sold many years ago, both of A. A. Waterman (Frazer & Geyer) manufacture.

Flexible-nib fountain pens on the cheap

Here's an alternative for those seeking fountain pens with nibs that will go from extra-fine to extra-broad -- modifying a new pen to accept a new dip pen nib:

Detailed discussion and photos here.

The opposite of flex

While some sought flexibility, others required rigidity -- and nibs didn't get much more rigid than this. The "Beaver" has a steel nib, shaped so as to provide channels to conduct and hold ink by capillary action. From what I have been able to find, it was introduced in the early 1920s, and was made in England.

The nib writes quite smoothly. "Indestructible" isn't much of an exaggeration -- this tip might as well have been advertised as "armor piercing".

Measuring nib flexibility, continued

It has taken some time to follow up on my proposed method of measuring nib flex as a function of writing pressure. The sample above was done on Clairefontaine paper, using a classic vintage extra-fine flexible dip pen nib, the Spencerian No. 1 Double-Elastic. Once the weighting of the pivot arm was set, using a digital scale, the nib was inked and set down on the paper, which was withdrawn to make the sample line.  In this preliminary trial, four weights were used: 15, 50, 150, and 200 grams. Line widths were 0.2, 0.5, 1.4, and 1.85 mm. Since this is a nib prized by calligraphers for its flexibility, it offers us a handy benchmark. We will be posting further test results shortly.

UPDATE: Below are improved test sheets for three different nibs: the Spencerian No. 1 (again); an extremely flexible Ladd & Miller #4 gold nib; and a flexible Fairchild #6, also gold. The ink was blue washable Quink, and the paper was our usual testing standard, Rhodia with a 5 mm grid. Weights used were 10, 25, 50, 100, and 150 grams. In our previous test we pushed the Spencerian No. 1 up to 200 grams, which it can safely handle, but 150 grams was pretty much the safe limit for our two gold nibs. Less flexible gold nibs could easily handle more pressure, of course, and would be tested accordingly.

 

Note that the Fairchild is very similar to the Spencerian within this range of pressure, with similar snapback as well (not something we are attempting to measure here, however). The Ladd & Miller nib has a larger tip, but it opens up with markedly less pressure than the other two nibs, both of which would be classified as full flex.

UPDATE: Some more nibs now added, updated chart below. Note that the Esterbrook 9788 Renew-Point was an unusual specimen, significantly more flexible than the norm.

Nib blocks for all

Our latest project is just in -- affordable nib blocks, made in clear acrylic. A nib block is an essential tool for pen repair, allowing one to straighten bent nibs against either a matching concave or convex surface, using an appropriately-shaped burnishing tool to apply the necessary pressure to straighten and counter-bend. Nib blocks have traditionally been made of tool steel, but vintage blocks seldom hit the market and newly-made blocks have only been made in very limited numbers, the expense of manufacture and finishing keeping their prices in the hundreds of dollars.

Some years ago, we bought a group of old nib blocks from a long-established pen repair service in England. Most were tool steel in various shapes, but a couple were made of acrylic. Though they had some superficial scuffing and scratches from decades of hard use, they were still as good as ever, which inspired us to use the same material for a new run of nib blocks, enabling them to be priced at a level affordable for every pen hobbyist.

In fact, while there are some applications where steel has no substitute -- hammering, for example, and heavy-duty burnishing for displacement and hardening of metal -- acrylic has the advantage of having just a slight degree of "give", just enough to allow one to use pressure to apply bending force, as when one wants to straighten by counter-bending. Metal doesn't allow this, which is why a strip of thin paper is sometimes laid over a metal block to provide that "give" that the bare block lacks.

The blocks are now listed in our website catalog here, at $25 each. They are also available on eBay. We'll be bringing some along to the next few pen shows we attend, which will be Madrid and Los Angeles.

Measuring nib flexibility

Once buyers started bidding up pens with flexible nibs to unprecedented levels, sellers began to cash in by overstating the flexibility of their wares (related posts here and here). This has in turn renewed interest in establishing some sort of grading scale for flexibility.

Establishing any sort of standardized flex grading system will not be easy. At minimum, there would have to be one scale indicating the range of line width variation, and another scale indicating how much pressure is required to make the nib open up. Unfortunately, I can think of no practical way to prevent the first scale from being subjective and inconsistent. Maximum line width for a given nib will differ greatly depending upon whether it is pushed to its short-term limits or kept within its safe range for sustainable long-term use. And while photos can show when a nib is being pushed far into the danger zone, in most cases there is a large grey area which one has to navigate by feel, not by eye.

The second scale is another story. Instead of continuing to rely upon poorly defined labels such as "easy flex", "full flex", "superflex", and the odious "wet noodle", correlating the force applied to a nib and the resulting deflection would provide a precise and uniform method of grading.

Two versions of this approach have been proposed in recent years. The first, explained in this YouTube video, entails measuring the pressure required to make the nib open up to its maximum safe width. Quite aside from the issue noted above of determining that width, this method also fails to provide figures for comparison that are truly comparable. How is one to compare a nib that writes a 2 mm line with 250 grams of pressure with another that writes a 2.2 mm line with 280 grams of pressure? Perhaps both require the same pressure to reach 2 mm, but one just happened to have been pushed a bit harder. But there's no telling, since the measurements were not made at a standard angle of deflection.

Addressing this problem, another method fixes the nib opening at a standard figure of 1 mm, further specifying an angle of 45 degrees between pen and paper. This is a definite step forward, though it is still not as exact or comprehensive as might be desired. As a practical matter, it is more than a little awkward to press a pen down on a digital scale, holding it at exactly 45 degrees, gradually increasing pressure until the tines are exactly 1 mm apart at the tip, and simultaneously noting the scale's reading. Furthermore, if one were to graph nib opening as a function of force applied, the resulting curve could vary considerably from nib to nib -- two nibs requiring identical pressure to open to 1 mm could well require substantially different amounts of pressure to open to 0.5 mm, or to 1.5 mm. Finally, 1 mm may be more than is safe for some nibs, especially smaller ones.

For informal use, the 1 mm method is approximate but simple, requiring only the absolute minimum of equipment. With only a little more work, however, much better measurements are possible. The pen holding apparatus shown below was thrown together using scrap wood and miscellaneous hardware. The digital scale is a cheap Harbor Freight unit, with the nib tip resting on a square of sheet acrylic. The pen is clamped between guide rails set at 45 degrees, and pressure on the nib can be varied by hanging weights (not shown) on the pivoted support arm.

This setup, along with a measuring magnifier, makes it easy to determine the exact pressure required to achieve a 1 mm opening. Even better, it allows for a much more complete picture of a nib's performance. For example, instead of using nib opening as the benchmark and then determining the pressure required, pressure can be used as the benchmark and the resulting line width measured. This can then be repeated with multiple pressure settings -- 100, 200, and 300 grams would cover the essential range.

Over the next week or so I will record and report measurement results for various pens, including some dip pen nibs favored by calligraphers for their flexibility. The latter should offer an invaluable benchmark. I will also start to report test results for flex nib pens I list on eBay, which may push other sellers to provide similar data.

[Very belated followup post here: Measuring nib flexibility, continued]

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ADDENDUM: Antonis Zavaliangos commented on the issue of dealing with friction -- in particular, frictional resistance to the spreading of the tines. While the use of an acrylic surface will reduce that friction, my preferred method (as planned) is to adjust the pressure to a convenient benchmark with the nib on the acrylic -- 100g, say -- then to ink the nib, put a sheet of paper over the acrylic, set the nib on the paper, and pull the paper out from under the nib. That way the nib will have the opportunity to open up fully, as it might not in a static test. It will also be much easier and more accurate to measure the resulting line's width than to measure the gap between the tines at the very tip.


FURTHER NOTES: Many comments on this proposal have focused on what it does not measure, rather than what it does. Excepts from some of my responses at FPN follow:

I have no illusions about the possibility of reducing the full experience of using a given flexible nib to numbers. It would be like trying to quantify a ballet performance, or the experience of consuming food. Such experiences can be expertly (if subjectively) described, but they cannot be meaningfully analyzed by being broken down to a series of objectively measurable data points.

All I am proposing is to measure one aspect of a flexible nib's physical characteristics, one key aspect that happens to be objectively measurable. The full expressiveness and fluidity of dancers you will have to judge by eye; but if you know that one can't jump more than a foot off the floor, it's a pretty good indication that the rest of the performance is likely to be substandard as well.

. . . there are certain vintage steel dip pen nibs that were turned out in the millions and which are still in plentiful supply. The scale of manufacture was enormous, and the consistency was excellent. Certain types are particularly prized by calligraphers for their flexibility, and since they are so much a known quantity, they will offer excellent benchmarks for any quantitative grading system.

As I noted in my blog post, while measuring how much force is required to produce a given degree of deflection is straightforward, determining the maximum safe degree of deflection is quite another matter. This is inevitably going to be a judgment call, and highly subjective.
If we were dealing with large numbers of absolutely identical nibs, one could test a small number to destruction to establish the range of flex safe for sustained usage. But since we are dealing with individual nibs, each of which is different, we are stuck relying upon "feel" and experience.

Seeking and using flexible nibs

I regularly receive requests for vintage pens with flexible nibs. Demand for flex nibs has spiked in the last few years, with buyers on eBay bidding up $40-60 pens to the $400-600 range if equipped with nibs of  sufficient flexibility -- though primarily certain pens, from certain sellers.

Luckily, vintage pens with flexible nibs can still be had for far less. As noted in my recent post on the Waterman 52, most high-spending newcomers to vintage pens in search of flex seem to be chasing just a handful of models in just a handful of venues. Yet there is so much more that is available. Pre-1900 pens, including gold-nibbed dip pens, are often extremely flexible. Pens predating 1920 or so also often have very flexible nibs, so eyedropper-fillers and safety pens are likely candidates. For self-fillers (pens with a built-in filling mechanism), good flex-nib candidates of the same date range include Conklin crescent-fillers, Mabie Todds, Wahls, pre-Duofold Parkers, pre-Lifetime Sheaffers, and many others. If you really don't care about the pen, only the nib, buy the pen for the nib and swap it into a pen you like better. It's not difficult, and if you want someone else to do it for you, not costly.

eBay isn't currently the best place to look for pens with flexible nibs at a reasonable price. Regular pen sellers have found out that emphasizing a nib's flexibility can pay off hugely, so exaggeration of a nib's capabilities has become routine. Nonspecialists and infrequent pen sellers may neglect to describe a nib's writing qualities entirely, making a bargain possible but also making searching out a suitable nib that much more difficult and chancy. All in all, you are best off working with a vintage pens specialist whose grading of nibs you can trust, but whose focus is on pens rather than special nibs.

"That poor nib! It's bleeding!"

Beware of the sellers who put out lavish photo displays and even videos trumpeting how wide a nib can open up. These typically show nibs being bent far beyond what they can sustain over the long term (the writing samples in our catalog are less dramatic, as they show writing with reasonable restraint). Flexible nibs can last a lifetime, but they can also be destroyed within weeks or even days if regularly pushed to their limits -- sprung (permanently deformed) or cracked or worse. The picture above is from an eBay listing; the caption links to a thread where the listing is discussed, and where a leading nib technician (along with others) openly expresses his dismay and concern. Signs of damage were already visible in photos of a similar nib on another pen simultaneously offered by the same seller, yet it was ultimately bid to over $500 -- a pen that most retail dealers would have priced at $80 to perhaps $150 at the most.

Aside from seller hype, the problem is that many flex-nib buyers are misinformed about what their favorite vintage nibs were designed to do. Even those nibs explicitly marketed for artists' work were intended to work within a rather restrained range of line width variation. The Waterman "Artist's Nib" has in recent years gained cult status as the ne plus ultra of flex, yet as the original instruction sheet above states, "Line widths range from filament width to 1/32 of an inch or more." That's nowhere near where the current crop of flex-nib aficionados are routinely pushing their nibs: 1/32" is just under 0.8 mm, and even though "or more" would seem to give an out, that "more" surely would still have been less than 1/16 of an inch -- 1.6 mm -- otherwise 1/16 is what Waterman would have written in the first place. The sample lines on the page below clearly show the range of widths being promoted.

If you want a nib that will go from extra-fine to 2 mm or more, you may be best off with a very flexible steel dip nib. If you insist on a gold nib, that kind of line width variation simply cannot be sustained unless the nib is quite big, large enough that the tines don't have to be bent to an excessive degree to achieve the desired width. Perhaps the best solution is to learn to appreciate a more restrained degree of line variation: truly elegant effects can be had well under the 2 mm mark, and without risking an irreplaceable old nib.

Finally, a few comments about another recent cult object, the so-called "wet noodle". I've never much liked the expression, in that even the softest of super-flexible nibs should have a degree of springiness entirely absent from cooked pasta. Yet leaving that objection aside, the question remains why such extreme softness has become so sought after. A nib that opens up with next to no pressure can be difficult to control -- and at the same time, easy to damage. This was why, in times past, such nibs were recommended only for those who wrote with a very light touch, while calligraphers generally opted for nibs with a full range of flex but considerably more spring.

Why the Waterman 52?

Recently we've seen a spate of ridiculously high selling prices for plain black Waterman 52 pens with flexible nibs on eBay, with prices on similar Waterman 12 pens not far behind. These models are among the most common of quality vintage fountain pens, and are far and away the most common Watermans of the hard rubber era. Yet bidders seem willing to pay a premium of up to several hundred dollars for examples with very flexible nibs -- even flawed examples which have been reblackened or which have lost their clips, pens that up until a short time ago could be bought by the handful for a few tens of dollars (and of which there is certainly no shortage: many of us have bins full, as in the photo above). Clearly, these pens are not being bought by collectors. But why are the users who are spending so much on common-as-dirt Watermans ignoring other brands, and even higher-end Watermans that carry the same nibs?

As far as I can determine, it all began when pen fanciers new to vintage started asking online about how to find old pens with flexible nibs. They were typically told to seek out a Waterman 12 or 52 -- not because these pens were anything particularly special, but because they were plentiful, cheap, and could readily be found with a nib with some flex. In fact, there are other pens that are more frequently found with highly flexible nibs (for example, safeties, especially Moores; Conklin crescent-fillers; US-made Swans; sub-brands with nibs of thin gold), but pointing out the most common and most available models made perfect sense when recommending starter pens for the novice.

The unexpected result, however, was that the most common pens suddenly became the most sought-after. The Waterman 52, in particular, seems to have gained a bizarre cachet among flex-nib aficionados, who will diligently search them out while ignoring other models and especially other brands. This has left most vintage pen enthusiasts scratching their heads, while others have rushed to cash in on a bubble that clearly cannot be sustained indefinitely.

For while the demand for flexible nibs will surely continue, buyers will eventually realize that the supply consists of more than the Waterman 52 (or, for that matter, the 12 and the 7 -- and don't even get me started about the cult of the Pink and the "Artist's" nibs). At present, though, flex-nib bargains are to be had for those willing to broaden their horizons.

What is a stub nib?

In current usage, a stub nib is a rounded italic: its point is wider than it is thick, but its profile is smoothed for easier writing. There are those who object to this definition on historical grounds -- a detailed discussion can be found here -- and as it turns out, the confusion of what "stub" means goes back quite some time.

The passage above appears in Waterman's Circular No. 55-25, which can be dated sometime between the later part of 1898 and 1900.

Ammonia, stress corrosion cracking, and 14K gold nibs

Several years ago I posed the question of whether pen cleaning solutions containing ammonia could pose a risk to gold nibs via the process known as stress corrosion cracking (SCC). The original discussion at FPN can be reviewed here (the responses on Lion & Pen contained less of substance, and in any event are now lost). The most useful scientific paper cited in that discussion was David A. Scott, "The Deterioration of Gold Alloys and Some Aspects of Their Conservation", Studies in Conservation, vol. 28, no. 4 (Nov 1983), pp. 194-203. According to Scott, gold alloys in the 9-14K range are most vulnerable to stress corrosion cracking, whereas gold of 18K purity and greater is largely invulnerable. A number of reagents that could provoke stress corrosion cracking were mentioned, including aqueous solutions of ammonia. Unfortunately, details were not provided concerning the concentration of these solutions, or the length of exposure required before embrittlement took place.

That particular online discussion ended without any firm conclusions being drawn. My concerns remained, however -- enough that I drastically cut back on my own use of ammonia solutions on gold nibs. If ammonia could embrittle gold nibs, it would be a slow, cumulative process -- very possibly taking years or even decades before becoming apparent -- so I did not find any reassurance in arguments that consisted of little more than, "I've not had any problems, so it must be OK." What worried me particularly was the large number of  vintage gold nibs with cracks in locations that just didn't make sense. Cracks where a nib is subjected to repeated bending are readily explained by metal fatigue. But what about cracks in the heel of a nib, where it is firmly sandwiched between the feed and section? Fatigue would not seem to be a concern there, so why are such cracks so common? Conventional wisdom is that the gold was made too hard, but if so, why are these nibs so often cracked only where they are wedged into the section? The answer may be that while the heel is the part of a nib least subject to the cyclic loading that causes fatigue, it is the part of a nib under the greatest constant stress. And it is that very stress that makes materials vulnerable to stress corrosion cracking.

A recent reexamination of the materials science literature available online has helped fill out this picture. The studies cited by Scott, for example, are referenced in more detail in Jennifer M. M. Dugmore and Charles D. DesForges, "Stress Corrosion in Gold Alloys", Gold Bulletin, vol. 12, no. 4 (Dec 1979), p. 141:

Much of the published work on the stress corrosion cracking [of] gold alloys is that of Graf and his co-workers and results were obtained using binary gold alloys. For example, Graf (15) found that the susceptibility of such alloys actually increases as the gold contents increase from 5 to between 15 or 20 atomic per cent, in which range maximum susceptibility is observed. The precise gold content at which the maximum susceptibility occurred depended on both the corrosive media and the stress applied to the alloy. When gold-copper alloys were exposed to a mixture of ammonia, water and oxygen the maximum susceptibility occurred at a gold content of about 15 atomic per cent . . . Graf also observed that as the gold content was increased above that at which the susceptibility to stress corrosion cracking was a maximum, the susceptibility dropped rapidly and the alloy appeared to become virtually immune. In other work (3), this author reported that ultimately the susceptibility dropped to a constant low value at higher gold contents, an effect he attributed to strong general surface attack. He also observed that when the stress was increased, not only did the susceptibility to stress corrosion cracking increase but its maximum was shifted towards higher gold contents.

It is previously explained that "9 carat alloys contain about 18 atomic per cent, and 14 carat alloys often less than 30 atomic per cent gold. In each caratage, the percentages vary according to the atomic weights and the proportions of the non-gold components present in the alloys." While this might at first glance suggest that the gold content of 14K alloys puts them comfortably above the level of maximum susceptibility to ammonia-induced stress corrosion cracking, the last sentence of the longer passage quoted above indicates that under higher stress there might be no safety margin after all.

This is at least partially confirmed by another article, W. S. Rapson, "Tarnish Resistance, Corrosion and Stress Corrosion Cracking of Gold Alloys", Gold Bulletin, vol. 29, no.2 (Jun 1996), pp 61-69, which makes specific mention of fountain pen nibs, and of ink (p. 64):

SCC may be induced not only by exposure to acids during pickling but also a result of contact with reagents such as ink, traces of hydrochloric acid in the atmosphere, perspiration, etc. It has frequently been initiated at points of stress created in annealed low carat alloys by subsequent stamping. Articles such as fountain pen nibs, rings, chains, etc, provide well-known examples.

A further reference appears on p. 66:

In early production of 14 carat fountain pen nibs, for example, Loebich (27) has stated that when ternary Au-Ag-Cu alloys were used, it was found desirable to age the fabricated nibs. In the aged condition they did not undergo stress corrosion cracking in use; whereas if heated to the point where they became homogeneous, cracking by the action of the ink became likely. When certain 14 carat quaternary Au-Ag-Cu-Zn alloys are used, however, such ageing is apparently unnecessary. This could be due to the known limiting effect of the zinc on phase separation in these alloys. The susceptibility of alloys of this type to stress corrosion is apparently considerably influenced both by their zinc contents and by heat treatment. Analogous anomalies occur in the case of the white Au-Cu-Ni-Zn alloys and these have been discussed by Graf.

I have not yet been able to consult the articles by Loebich (who worked for Degussa: Otto Loebich, "Metallkundliche Probleme bei der gewerblichen Goldverarbeitung", Zeitschrift für Metallkunde 44 (1953) p. 288-92) or Graf (L. Graf and J. Budke, "Zum Problem der Spannungskorrosion homogener Mischkristalle III: Abhangigkeit der Spannungskorrosionsempfindlichkeit von Kupfer-Gold und Silber-Gold Mischkristallen von Goldgehalt und Zusammenhang mit dem "Mischkristall-Effect"", Zeitschrift für Metallkunde 46 (1955) pp. 378-385). Nonetheless, the fact that 14K nibs did have problems with stress corrosion cracking is highly significant. While that exposure was to ink -- that is, to acids and salts -- rather than to ammonia, we now have incontrovertible evidence that under the right conditions, even very weak solutions of known problem reagents can eventually leave alloy gold fatally embrittled.

What can we conclude from this? It seems clear that the observed cracking of nibs at the heel is indeed due to stress corrosion cracking -- and on balance, it is likely that this is primarily due to long-term exposure to ink, rather than to much shorter exposures to ammonia. We cannot assume that ammonia exposure is no more damaging than  ink exposure, however, given that typical ammonia cleaning solutions are far more reactive than ordinary modern inks. And given the cumulative nature of stress corrosion, minimizing ammonia exposure is only prudent.

One precaution to be considered is to remove nibs from sections before cleaning. Stress corrosion does not take place where there is no stress, and by all indications, nibs are most stressed by being wedged into their sections -- though internal stresses cannot be entirely ignored. If nibs are removed and cleaned separately, one also has the option of using other solvents not implicated in stress corrosion at all, such as denatured alcohol.

A further question is how ammonia solutions react with gold alloys in an ultrasonic cleaner. The scrubbing action of an ultrasonic will typically remove more encrusted ink in a minute than in hours of soaking, but ultrasonics are also known to be able to erode objects by driving the cleaning solution into microscopically small surface cracks and pores. Though it would seem that ultrasonic cleaning has the potential to dramatically accelerate the process of stress corrosion, I have not been able to find any relevant studies (including with other metals and other reagents).

Two final notes: While we might worry about ammonia, chlorides are a proven danger. I have personally seen a 14K gold pen overlay spontaneously crack to pieces after a few minutes of exposure to undiluted bleach. Even in very dilute form, bleach (and even heavily chlorinated water) will rapidly embrittle gold jewelry many times thicker than a pen nib. Jewelers' websites routinely caution against wearing gold rings of 14K purity or less when using cleansers, swimming in chlorinated pools, and even handling some foodstuffs (vinegar and salt, for example). And we can also learn from the jewelers regarding another aspect of stress corrosion cracking prevention, which is heat treatment. A stress relief anneal, typically 30 minutes at 250°C, is recommended after any jewelry repair. This is consistent with Loebich, cited above -- though I wonder how many of those who currently engage in nib repair have any knowledge of this.

ADDENDUM: Worth noting is the near-total absence of heel cracks on gold dip pen nibs, which were made in much the same way as fountain pen nibs, and which in use would have been subject to very similar fatigue cycling -- but very different clamping stress, and no ink exposure.

ADDENDUM: After publication of this post I was able to participate in a project involving examination of cracked gold nibs under a scanning electron microscope which left no doubt that stress corrosion cracking was the culprit. In multiple cases we could see cracks that had developed but which were not yet visible even with the aid of a standard jeweler's loupe. In subsequent discussions I found that other materials scientists with an interest in pens had done similar work, these experts unanimously confirming the stress corrosion diagnosis.

An unusual nib: Foster's patent of 1889

 

This nib appears to be a typical Aikin Lambert product, but when turned over a surprise awaits.

Instead of the usual roughening at the front, it has been impressed with a waffle-like pattern -- and a patent date of September 3, 1889, which allows us to identify it with US patent 410272, issued to John T. Foster of Arlington, New Jersey. The most relevant passages in the patent description follow:

The sixth step of my process consists in striking the nib portion of the blank by a punch, a single blow being ordinarily sufficient, the punch being formed with a roughened or engraved face to impart a rough or indented or matted surface to the pen . . .

The surface of the nib is roughened, not merely by superficial scratches, as in the stoning process, which in course of time are worn off by rubbing of the pen against a sponge or pen-wiper to clean it, but by indentations deeply and forcibly pressed into the metal, whereby a better capillary surface is afforded for holding the ink.

Foster's other patents have nothing to do with writing instruments, and it appears his interest in nib manufacture came out of an involvement with general metalworking. I have not seen any other nibs made to Foster's design, so it would seem that despite the patent's claim, this stippling offered no measurable benefits -- and one wonders if it might even have interfered with capillary action along the slit.

Waterman pens with non-Waterman nibs

Starting with the earliest Waterman advertisements, supplying your own nib was repeatedly promoted as an customer option. As the ad above states: "contains one of the best maker's gold pens, or your favorite pen can be fitted". These nibs didn't have to be gold, either. As the Waterman's brochure of c.1892 (available through the PCA's Reference Library) states on page 4, "It [the Waterman pen] takes gold or steel pens of the ordinary straight forms, and your favorite pen (among these) can be fitted. Holders of corresponding sizes are made for gold pens from Nos. 1 to 9." There follows a discussion of the disadvantages of steel nibs in a fountain pen, as they must be swapped out at the end of each day as they are prone to rust, and on page 7 there are instructions on how to send in your own gold or steel nib to be fitted to a Waterman holder.

Not long after this, however, mention of other makers' nibs disappears. In Waterman's catalog of c. 1897 (so dated in the Reference Library, but possibly a year or so earlier) holder and nib sizes are cut down to five, from numbers 2 to 6, while emphasis is given to Waterman's ability to provide gold nibs to any taste. Exactly when this shift took place remains to be determined, though it seems likely that it coincides more or less with the introduction of the New Style (cone cap) holders in 1894; it is also plausible that it was not immediately rigidly adhered to, and that for some time afterwards, customers wishing to buy a Waterman pen would not be turned away if they insisted on bringing in their own favorite gold nib to be fitted.

All this is well known to serious Waterman collectors, but I recently came across a few references to Waterman pens with non-Waterman nibs that may be less familiar. The one below is an 1888 contest announcement printed in Stenography in the January, February, and March issues (pp. 5, 14, and 23).

"Gold mounted" would indicate the Waterman pen had gold filled barrel bands, and it is explicitly noted that it was fitted with a #5 Mabie Todd Stenographic nib. Another good example of special-purpose gold nibs taking precedence over the holders to which they were fitted is seen below.

This appears on page 7 of Benn Pitman and Jerome Bird Howard's The Reporter's Companion (Cincinnati, The Phonographic Institute, 1891). The special shorthand nibs -- from the imprints shown, probably made by John Holland or Weidlich -- are offered on their own, with a pocket dip holder, or fitted to a Waterman's fountain pen.

Finally, we have the ad above, from page 27 of the advertising supplement appended to the Gardeners' Monthly and Horticulturist, vol. 28, Jan 1886. It is in the name of Charles H. Marot, the publisher and owner of the Gardeners' Monthly, and it is safe to assume that it is entirely representative of how Waterman pens were sold at the time by authorized dealers. Regarding non-Waterman nibs, it is consistent with contemporary ads in stating: "USES gold or steel pens of the ordinary forms, and your favorite pen can be fitted" and "WE have holders for gold pens of numbers 3 to 8 inclusive, and for the common steel pen: also, an assortment fitted with gold pens ready for use." It is full of additional tidbits, however, such as the listing of holders by model numbers -- which at the time did not correspond directly with the nibs they carried -- and the provision of those holders' exact measurements. Perhaps most notable is the following statement:

"PRICES given are for well-finished 14 carat gold pens of the smallest size suited to the holder; 16 carat gold pens, or pens of the larger sizes, cost from 50 cents to $1.00 more. The 16 carat pens are of extra finish as as quality and are well worth the difference in price."

The extent to which nibs and holders were marketed as separate components is further highlighted by the very last line of the ad:

"A certificate may be had with each pen, which warrants the gold pens and holders for five (5) years, and guarantees both combined as a fountain pen, to give satisfaction on thirty days' trial or the money will be returned."

UPDATE: Waterman's Circular no. 55.26 can be dated right around 1901 from its back-cover trumpeting of the gold medal received at the 1900 Paris exposition, and from the 155/157 Broadway address (by the end of 1901, it had changed to 173 Broadway). And on page 7, we are told:

In ordering a gold pen and holder complete and ready for use, send a sample of writing and a description of the kind of pen desired . . .

In ordering a holder for a gold pen send the gold pen to be used, because the holder has to be adjusted to every gold pen, and we require these fittings to be done under our supervision.

 So as late as 1901, Waterman was still installing non-Waterman gold nibs upon customer request.