I found a photograph today, nestled between pages 118 and 119 of a Victorian novel called 'The Old Helmet', by Elizabeth Wetherell. The picture was in such a dreadful state - torn, creased and discoloured - that I was tempted to throw it away.
But one hour later, after enduring the tedium of Photoshop Elements, the image suddenly came to life:
It looks like the 1890s to me. I should know - I was there only the other week.
I wonder what Creese's Oatmeal Stout tasted like?