I’m pretty sure no medicine label will ever have this much time devoted to it..ever again. Even though they packaged up incredibly sketchy things as medicine, there’s something oddly reassuring about the elaborate illustrations. I feel like they *have* to know what they’re talking about. I mean, look at his stuffy portrait. He is not playing around. Too bad they gave alcohol to crying babies and poison to women with flushed cheeks. Sigh. I want to love that era, but they’re just so crazy under those dapper top hats and petticoats.
Via Flickr.



It’s hilarious that above his scowling mug it says “Joy to the World” – he seems to be ready to say “or ELSE!!”
Also no product I know is going to put a price on the label – things were so much nicer before barcodes.
In this case, the active ingredients were probably opiates and grain alcohol, though the ingredients weren’t listed, and were plainly not constant over time (as essentially the same brand was being used in 1928).
The term “pain killer” was coined for this product, and is the source of our modern hyphenated or compound term. When others began using the same term, Davis & Son tried to claim a trade-mark violation, but the fact that they had always prefaced “Pain Killer”, “Pain-Killer”, and “Painkiller” with “Vegetable” tripped them up in court.
I recall my Grandmother mixing this stuff with hot water and sugar for us when we came in from the outside during the winter. It was wonderful stuff.
I read the ingredients for Perry Davis Pain Killer were: alcohol, landanum, red pepper, turpentine, and tabasco juice. To be used internally or as a liniment (such as frost bite)!