These gumball machine trinkets are my inheritance.  Growing up in Philadelphia I often accompanied my father to work on weekends (OK, sometimes on school days, too).  If it worked with a coin he could fix it: pinball machines, pool tables, juke boxes, cigarette and candy vending machines, and anything else that fit into that category.  Those too old or broken ended up in our basement, including a fully-loaded juke box, an arcade shooting range, a miniature bowling alley, and a pool table primarily used to fold laundry.  This little hat, clock and dump truck are among about a dozen gumball machine “prizes,” including a pistol and holster, Howdy Doody face, and others.