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He was forty-five years in the clothing business, in Great Falls, Montana, and Aberdeen and Hoquiam, Washington, during which time he used to do the window displays. With a nice feeling for line and form, he then as now gave much thought to making the most of his materials.

Oakland's liking for art work—he refuses to call it a talent—was his incentive to do something different. Always his hobbies ran along art lines; some of his oil paintings compare favorably with those hung in art museums. Out of this feeling about for a medium to express himself has grown his hobby-turned-into-a-business.

Doll collectors and those interested in Indian lore are buying more and more of his eight- and nine-inch figurines, comparing notes on these possessions. But, although "Oakland Originals" are being, recognized, few have heard of the maker.

"Some have the idea," Oakland says, a rare smile lighting up his serious, sensitive face, "that I'm an Indian myself. I just happen to like Indians and admire some of the great chiefs who had a part in our history."

OAKLAND'S CLEVERNESS with paper might be said to be at the base of his hobby. When he lived in Hoquiam, Washington, he conducted a class in making paper novelties. For Jubilee Week there in 1939 he was asked to make gigantic figures of Paul and Paulina Bunyan.

"Paulina?" he asked. "Who ever heard of Paulina?"

"You can do it," was the response. "Just make a girl to size up to Paul." Oakland did do it, and the reception given the figures by the celebrants gave impetus to his hobby, then just beginning to feel its way.

The Indian motif began to creep in when, for the Chamber of Commerce in Hoquiam, he turned out 100 plaques with an Indian face.

Pipe cleaner figures were the starting point of the dolls. His son's wife, Mrs. Howard F. Oakland, Jr., made and sold a few novelties of this type of Indian representation. He became interested. "I can make a better Indian," he thought.

He did, and she dressed them for him. They were larger than those he now makes, Then, as now, he copied the faces of Indians from pictures, and used a wire base. The feet of these earlier ones he carved of wood.

They did not sell well. They were not too good Indians, he acknowledges, and the salesman who handled them was also not too good.

"Going over the top of a mountain is a hard climb," he says with a twinkle in his eyes. "When you find the top, and can look down on the other side, you wonder why you could not reach there before. I'm not to the top yet, but I have ideas that stand up pretty well.

"I tried many materials and methods. I tested different forms of plaster. I carved. I made molds, some not good; the material would bulge over, a fault I remedied by building a shoulder on the mold."

A representation of Ezra Meeker, a western pioneer, was one of his first figurines. It did not sell well, possibly because the character was not familiar enough to the buying public. Nor did his plaque of Charles Russell, cowboy artist, whose studio was in Great Falls, Montana, where Oakland lived many years ago. People took it to be a likeness of Will Rogers, and lost interest when they found it was not.

One of Oakland's first Indians was copied from the book, "Good Medicine," written and illustrated by Russell. The artist was interested, and showed Oakland how to improve this figure.

Followed "Two Guns." Other early ones were "Lazy Boy" and "Clears Up," both made as pin ups with wooden heads on leather backing.

OAKLAND ADDED other characters whose history interested him, discontinuing some which proved unpopular or involved too much time to be profitable, until now he makes seventeen Indians and two Eskimos.

Of these, Oakland finds that chiefs who played an important part in the history of the West are best sellers.

Chief Seattle, a great orator and one of the most friendly of the Indians, is naturally most popular in the city named for him, and on whose Fifth Avenue stands his statue. "Strangely enough," Oakland says, "Chief Joseph, whose territory was considerably east of here, is also well received. So is Sitting Bull, the Sioux chief.

"Next would probably come the Old Squaw. She might belong to any tribe; you see her in many places. I like her, despite the trouble and thought she has caused me. She walks bent over her cane by the load of sticks she carries across her shoulders. To make her hold the cane was the difficulty; cast hands would not serve the purpose. I tried felt, which I painted; this would not hold up, but sometimes cracked, as I have seen happen to others who tried it.

"Then I thought, 'Why not rubber?' I dipped the felt in rubber. It was a better hand, but still not quite right. I gave the felt a longer immersion in the rubber, to make it take on a heavier coating. That did the trick; the hand now holds the stick firmly and naturally. It may lose some of the grip, as the squaw ages, but so far it is satisfactory.

"Now, when I wish a flexible hand such as I need for the Old Squaw, I cut from a felt hat a piece the shape of a hand, fasten it to one-half of a pipe cleaner, wrap the arm with gum paper, then soak the hand in latex diluted with water, or in plastico diluted with less water. I force the latex or plastico into the hand, shaping it into the desired form. If I want it to hold a stick; as Old Squaw and Gentle Annie do, I put into the hand a nail of the size hole I want. After the hand is dry enough to hold its shape, I dip it into the latex or plastico solution two or three times. Then I powder it."

The Old Squaw has long grey hair hanging loose and bound back from her brow with a brown suede band. She wears the print dress and plaid blanket he uses for the women.

NOT AS popular as the dignity and wisdom her charming features warrant is Gentle Annie. She lived from 1814-1904, and was the sister of "Old Judge Stilicoom."

Well known in Seattle, she was a fine old lady who "could make the whitest bread and the lightest biscuits of anyone in the West," according to the caption under the photograph Oakland copied. He obtained a remarkable likeness in his doll.

She is not listed in his leaflet of wholesale prices, but he asks more for her than the others, to repay him for time spent on her more elaborate costume: the snug-fitting hood, the cape with its fur neckpiece, the separate bodice and skirt, the long, double string of beads.

Princess Angeline, daughter of Chief Seattle, wears shoes instead of moccasins, in keeping with her habit of walking the streets of Seattle in worn shoes. She would beg passers-by for shoes to replace them, and they would take pity on her. But instead of wearing the shoes she was given, she sold or traded them for something else. Her old ones were her stock in trade. Oakland has filled orders for 6,500 Princess Angeline plaques, in addition to the dolls he now makes.

The modern Indian is quite well received, Oakland says. Buyers seem particularly attracted by his hat. This felt hat of bright brown bas a high crown and green band. He wears a black, heeled boot, and is in shirt sleeves, over which he wears a short-sleeved suede jacket.

WITH THE exception of the modern Indian and Old Squaw, each figurine has a short story, printed on a small slip of paper, folded and glued to an inner garment. Sacajawea, for example, bears this one:

"Boat Woman (not Bird Woman) of the Snake or Shoshone Tribe, sister of Chief Caneahwait, was one of three Indian wives of the French-Sioux half-breed Charboneau (who won her at gambling), guide and interpreter for the Lewis & Clark Expedition. Left Fort Mandan (now Bismarck, North Dakota), April 7, 1805 with her infant son Batiste, called 'Papoose of the Trail'. She married Jerk Meat of the Comanches many years later. She was one who spoke at the Treaty of Fort Bridger in 1868. She died April 9, 1884, at the age of 100 years."

The reverse of the slip is stamped "Oakland's Original."

At the suggestion of Dorothy Simpson, of Dorothy's, Seattle gift shop, Oakland made a papoose to represent Sacajawea's Batiste. It is a broad-faced, double-chinned little head with sleeping eyes. He wears a helmet-like hood of Roman stripe rayon, and is encased in carrying case made of strips of brown suede glued to shape and bound with several windings of raffia. A thong of the suede is glued to the sides, of sufficient length to be worn across Sacajawea's brow, and so suspend the little Batiste across her back. Carried thus, it does not interfere with the hang of her blanket. Mrs. Kate Mike, of a much later period, also has a papoose,

OAKLAND FIRST steeps himself in all the material he can find on the character he is creating, reading books and articles, and hunting the best picture available. When the Indian comes to life in his mind, he sculptures his model.

The Indian head and hands (other than the felt ones) are made of Castone, sometimes called iron stone, a composition manufactured by the Ransom & Randolph Co. of Toledo, Ohio. Put out in powder form, it is to be mixed to a paste, to become, Oakland says, the hardest substance of its kind known. More expensive than other materials he has tried, it costs 28 cents a pound, but it assures an unbreakable doll that will take paint well, It comes in different colors, cream, being the most common.

To make the model of the Indian Oakland mixes a paste of Castone and water, which he pours into a container that will shape it into block form. When it dries, he carves the head, using dentist's tools.

From this sculptured head Oakland makes a mold of latex. "Plastico may also be used for the mold," he says. "Apply whichever you choose over the smooth surface of the model, either by dipping or brushing. Brushing is the preferred method, and should be done eight to twelve times, allowing each coat time to dry between applications. Powder surface and the inside as you take it off.

"If you want a case for the mold, put plaster of Paris around one side. When hard, grease the edge, then put the plaster on the other side. Another method is to make a wall around the article, which should be well powdered and have a string glued to the center. Pour in plaster of Paris, and before it becomes hard take off the wall and pull the two ends to divide the case.

Imbedded in the mold is a wire which will be hooked onto the bottom of the core used to build the torso. It will enable the head to be moved slightly into natural positions.

WHEN THE casting is dry, it is removed from the mold. Oakland then paints in the features in natural colors. Occasionally a customer will suggest that a lighter or darker skin tone is preferred. Oakland obliges. When the paint dries, he dips the head in shellac. He casts and paints twelve or fifteen heads of a kind at a time.

Hair is glued on. It is black cotton yarn which Oakland separates into thin strands, braided or hanging loose, depending upon the character. Sacajawea's is long enough to allow for two braids to hang waist-length in front, plus enough to glue cap fashion to the head. Black thread stitches a part extending from the brow to center scalp. Hair covering the back of the head is scant, barely enough to fill in over the composition. Yarn is loosely braided over the ears and hangs over each shoulder, to be tied near the ends with a strand of the same yarn.

Some, like the Old Squaw, Nez Perce Chief Joseph, and Sioux Chief Red Cloud, wear a plain brow band of brown suede, with the chiefs sporting a single feather. Gentle Annie's snug hood covers her hair.

Oakland molds a supply of feet and hands at one time. These can be made alike for some of the Indians. Princess Angeline's must be made for her alone, since she wears shoes; some of his Angelines have, however, been given moccasins. The modern Indian must have boots. The Old Squaw's hands are made individually and a cane supplied her. Gentle Annie also has a cane. The others' hands are interchangeable, made in two forms, one with fingers incurved much more than the other, so they can seem to be holding objects or used as an aid to conversation. Hands are molded of the same material as the faces.

Number nineteen stovepipe wire is the foundation of the doll. This is a heavy wire, sturdy enough to enable the finished doll to bend into almost any position without weakening the wire. This is an important feature; salespeople find it a big advantage in arranging displays, seating some dolls, placing some in characteristic cross-legged squat, and having some apparently on the point of striding off, one foot in advance of the other. Old Squaw, as she walks with her cane, is bent, as a grey-haired squaw might well be.

This pliancy Oakland demands in his figurines, and fashions them with it in mind. It was a factor in deciding him to use leaden feet. "They are easily balanced and do not readily topple over," be explains. "No stand is needed."

THE STARTING point in assembling parts of a doll is the legs and feet. The feet are cast in a form. Wire for the legs is inserted into the lead and hardened with it. When set, the foot is removed from the mold and painted the color of a moccasin and decorated, with flocking, which makes it look like buckskin. Next Oakland paints a design in soft colors to represent beadwork. Until recently, that was the final step. He now likes his method of making the design simulate beading more exactly: After the doll is completed, he brushes the design on the moccasins with "glowbeads," a transparent glaze.

Legs of the women are wound with black yarn like that used for the hair, simulating stockings. This is tied securely at the knee.

Torso of the doll is somewhat flat, and is made on a cardboard core. Over this, making one step of the process, he wraps a finely meshed netting with a layer of cotton on the outside.

This core is important in assembling the doll. Wire from the head hooks over the bottom of it. Arm wires curve over its top edges to form shoulders. Legs hook onto it. Hands are bound to arm with twine, this extending to near the shoulder.

Members of the doll are now more securely bound together and the body shaped with layer after layer of tightly wound flannel; on each doll there are ten yards of one-half-inch strips.

Oakland was asked by a customer to make Indian headdresses for sale in a gift shop. As a foundation for the feathers, he used butcher paper which he shaped on a wet block he made for the purpose. He then stuck the feathers on this paper clip with a special glue. The customer liked the finished headdresses, but was somewhat dubious at the price. Oakland offered to take them back, but was not required to do so. The customer in the end was pleased, for they had a good sale.

BUCKS ARE dressed in suede leather costumes, and squaws in cotton print dresses with plaid blankets of fine wool. Sacajawea is made in either the print or leather outfit. New additions, an Eskimo man and woman, come in leather parkas, fur trimmed.

Oakland used to buy scrap leather, and does still use some of it. But since going to Seattle over a year ago he has scouted around for new sources of material, and is always on the lookout for the best he can procure; he found a good supply house where he buys suede by the piece. Thickness and color are important factors in leather, he explains.

Even with glue, he is particular: "I have a special glue for each use." Therein lies his growing success: painstaking workmanship and quality materials.

Not that he frowns, on shortcuts; he has several. Most of them entail simple inventions of his own. Those who have worked with leather, particularly in the small pieces such as Oakland uses while dressing his Indians, know that cutting is difficult and slow. He made stamps, on the order of cooky cutters, with which he cuts the parts of the garments. They are heavy cardboard forms, supplied with a sharp metal cutting surface. He cuts a good supply of costumes at a time, storing them in boxes in his supply cupboard.

A woman in his neighborhood agreed to do the sewing for 10 cents a costume. "That doesn't sound like much for her," he acknowledges, "but I cut the garments and finish them myself, such as trimming sleeves, pants legs, and other edges to proper length. Hems of dresses are glued, not sewn, and seams are pinked. So the amount of sewing is cut to a minimum."

OAKLAND SELLS his dolls principally wholesale to gift shops and gift and toy departments of larger stores. Collectors buy them in the latter; the figures are definitely not a toy. Buyers and salespeople alike are eager to push them. In the words of one: "So often Indian characters are made for the tourist trade, with slipshod construction and looking as though they were made by the carload lot. We don't have to apologize for Mr. Oakland's."

Dorothy's especially moves a good number of them. One of the clerks, Mrs. Jeannette Hipps, is particularly active in bringing them to the notice of customers; she herself finds them so pleasing. She says: "Most people who make character dolls like those of European nationals, for example, are creating a people, showing by coloring a characteristic type, but not depicting anyone person. Mr. Oakland approaches his dolls from an entirely different angle. He sees them as Chief Seattle said of his subjects: 'Tribes are made up of individuals.' He is very sincere in his undertaking, almost with the seriousness of the Indians he pictures."

Miss Dorothy Simpson, proprietor of Dorothy's, sometimes suggests a character for which they are asked, and Oakland will make it to her order. She placed Chief Seattle and Sitting Bull in a Chicago art museum.

The toy department of Frederick and Nelson, a large store, has a display of Oakland's dolls. The department head is enthusiastic about them. She sold ten of them at a time for a collection.

The Alaska Fur Co., which maintains an extensive Indian curio department, handles Oakland's dolls. So does Mack's Totem Curio Shop.

ORDERS ARE by no means restricted to local dealers. One regular customer writes to Oakland from New Mexico in Spanish—he can't write English—including funds to cover his order. At first Oakland had these letters translated. But he found that each time this customer just wanted Indians, giving no specifications as to any particular ones. So now he makes up an order for the amount inclosed.

Oakland's figures go all over the world. A customer wrote to say several were to be shipped to Norway, and that he had also sold some to an Egyptian general who was with the Egyptian embassy. in Washington, D. C.

Oakland's Originals pave been shipped to Johannesburg, South Africa, by Dorothy's. A collector from Maine asked this shop for a complete list of his dolls. And recently Dorothy's gave him an order for six or more larger Indians, thirteen inches tall, to be placed in a new theater in San Francisco.

Another regular customer whom Oakland has never seen is Mrs. F. F. Runyan, who operates, the Oregon Gift Shop in Portland, Oregon. She first bought of him when he was in Hoquiam, and got his figurines through his agent. The Miles City Gift Shop, Miles City, Montana, bought in the same way. This agent also took his Indians to antique fairs in both Washington and Oregon. Now Oakland has dispensed with representatives, finding it more satisfactory to be his own salesman. In the early days of his undertaking that was not practical, since his figurines were then only a side line which he did not expect to earn him a living.

OAKLAND'S WHOLESALE price to dealers is $3. They retail the figurines for from $6.50 to $7.50, depending upon the store and the doll. Sacajawea usually brings more than the others. He does not place Gentle Annie on his wholesale list, as she takes longer to make and brings him no more than the others unless made to order.

He used to wholesale plaques from $12 to $15 a dozen, busts at $15, big pin ups at $12, and small pin ups of leather and wood at $6. He will still make the latter to order, but does not keep a stock on hand. None of these, stores have found, has the sale of the figurines.

Oakland figures that as a yearly average fifteen per cent of his wholesale price represents cost of materials and sewing. He has not estimated profit on individual dolls. Nor can he say how long it takes him to complete each, since so many are being processed at once.

"Sometimes a customer objects to my portrayal of an Indian," Oakland says, "as did one who thought Sacajawea should be older. Of course, she did live to a ripe age, but I make her about 30, as she was at the time of the Lewis and Clark expedition. I don't change the faces of my figurines, although I sometimes make other suggested alterations. I make them according to the best pictures I can find, and believe I have very close likenesses of these.

"Recently I added an Eskimo couple. I have not placed them on my wholesale list, however; because of the fur on their parkas, they will be slower to dress and more expensive to make. But I like to add to my group of characters."

He now makes seventeen Indians: Chief Seattle, Princess Angeline, Bear Heart, Two Guns, Dekanawida, Chief Red Cloud, Chief Joseph, Chief Sitting Bull, Iroquois, Iroquois Warrior, Mrs. Kate Mike, Old Squaw, Modern Indian, Sacajawea in either cloth or suede costume, Gentle Annie, Lazy Boy, Thunder Bird, and Clears Up. The last three are big pin ups, made only to order.

MOVING FROM Hoquiam to Seattle and its more active market was helpful to Oakland's enterprise and marked the change from a hobby plied after hours to a full-time business.

He lives with his son and daughter-in-law, Mr. and Mrs. Howard Oakland, Jr. He and his son are skilled carpenters, and remodeled the basement of the home into a shipshape workshop, with several long tables handy to his drawing, cutting, painting, and molding, and with cabinets to store supplies and dolls, both in the making process and finished ones.

One such cabinet has boxes of parts stored on shelves. On the inside of the doors are clips to which are attached orders, and others which have listings of the figurines on which he is working. Labels, with the stories, are kept in a long, shallow cardboard box he divided into raised sections. This contrivance he belittles.

But he is justly proud of another invention, a time saver, on which he cuts the outing flannel strips. He cut razor blades in two and mounted each half on a wooden block. These blocks he attached to a frame that is about two feet wide. Rollers take the uncut flannel and the one-half-inch cut strips. A hand wheel operates the machine.

That Oakland's earnest seeking for perfection has driven him well along the way to the top of his mountain I saw when I had opportunity to compare his present output in his workshop with my own Sacajawea bought two years ago, and a Princess Angeline a collector friend has owned seven years. Improvements are chiefly in materials that stand up better; he had a good doll in the Old Angeline, but she was made of plaster of Paris, which has chipped slightly, and she has the painted felt hands that did not satisfy him; hers so far have not cracked.