Object of the Day: A Trade Card for Hood's Paper Dolls

This antique die-cut trade card, dated 1894, was once very beautiful, I’m sure. Now, she’s the teensiest bit scary as she’s endured one-hundred-eighteen years of wear. She was once glued into an album. This is not surprising. That’s what these cards were for, after all. They were meant to be collected and saved—to serve as reminders of the advertisers and to bring pleasure to the people who saved them. Glue was her best friend and her enemy.

Glue preserved her, but glue also ate away at her. The glue from the cards above her caught pieces of her face and gown, pulling off the ink and leaving her with a wonky eye—making the once crisply printed text on her gown now unreadable. Glue held her to a page—a page which kept her delicate edges from being torn, a page which gave her over a century of life. The glue that once held her down, somehow, didn’t damage the reverse of the card, too badly. This is quite a bit of luck as we’re able to read a message from a retailer—a message read by the eyes of some young woman in 1894. 

Let’s take a look at her. Her blonde curls are quite bright still. Her dove-gray hose are still crisp and her cheeks and lips still rosy. Once she clearly told people where they could buy paper dolls just like her. Or could they? Was she a sample of a paper doll concern or something else? Was she some sort of promotional give-away? Hmmmmm…

Once she said:
I am one of Hood’s Paper Dolls.

There are five of us:

Pa and Ma, Sister and

Brother and Me. 

A Hood's Pill Card
from my collection.
Click to Enlarge

The remainder, sadly, is too ruined to make out. It once boasted that she and her family came with colorful clothing and accessories. A note at the bottom of her skirt tells us how to learn more by reading the reverse—an advertisement for a Massachusetts-based concern. Hood’s? I know the name Hood’s in terms of Victorian American businesses. This is not a name that I associate with paper dolls. This is a name which I associate with “liver pills.” 

Let’s see if the reverse tells us anything else.

Well, yes, it does:

Hood’s 

Paper Dolls 

Are 

Right Up to Date 

---- 

Largest, Handsomest, 

Most Complete Set 

Ever Issued. 

They are lithographed in 

beautiful colors, strongly made 

of heavy manila paper, and are 

exquisite in every respect. 

They are all cut and are not 

sent in sheets like other dolls which 

have to be cut and pasted together and 

which you are reasonably sure to spoil 

before you get anywhere (illegible) shape. 

Hood’s Dolls are all ready for use 

the minute you get them, and 

the dressing and changing of 

clothes will amuse the chil- 

dren for hours. They 

will also stand alone, and 

thus make neat mantle or 

boudoir ornaments. 

The Doll of which this is a 

sample is one of the smallest 

in the set. Thus they are unusually 

large and are fully equal 

to dolls sold in stores for 50 

cents or more. 

How to Obtain Hood’s Dolls. 

These Dolls are issued complimentary to 

patrons of Hood’s Pills and will be 

sent to any address on receipt of 10 cents 

in stamps and one trade-mark from Hood’s 

Pills. They cannot be secured in any other 

way. Write your address plainly and send 

trade-mark and stamps to C.I. Hood & Co., 

Lowell, Mass., U.S.A. 

In Great Britain, send 5d, and trade-mark to 

C.I. Hood & Co., 34 Snow Hill, London, E.C. 

Hood’s Pills 

easy to buy, easy to take 

easy in effect. 25 cents. 

Ah! She was a promotional aid. Buy liver pills and get a family of paper dolls. We still do this, don’t we? Maybe we’re not so keen on paper dolls anymore, but I can’t think of one person I know who hasn’t clipped the “proof of purchase” on a box to get something in return. The difference—this one has survived.