Books: The Wishing Book

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Triple Threat. Both beauty preparations and apparel were designed to assure women customers that they would have the proper hourglass look. There was a triple-threat package, for instance, called the "Princess bust developer." It combined a "bust expander, bust cream or food" with an instrument resembling a plumber's plunger that promised (for $1.46) to "enlarge any lady's bust from two to three inches." A ladies' "Snow White Venus" union suit sold for 75¢ ("One of the handsomest union suits we have ever seen. And we have seen nearly every style"). For only $1 there was the latest thing in corsets: "Will not stretch, break, roll up or pucker . . . priced so low that even persons in the humbler walks of life can easily afford to buy it."

A do-it-yourself blacksmith outfit ("Sharpen the plows, shoe the horses, set the loose tires, mend the machinery —don't say you can't do the work") was offered for $25. Solid-oak dining tables that extended to 12 ft. were $16.50, rocking chairs were 85¢ each, and a "Grade AA" surrey with fringe on top cost $87.

Sears obviously was worried that many customers might find the ordeal of ordering by mail simply too much. "Don't be afraid you will make a mistake," the catalogue exhorted. "We receive hundreds of orders every day from young and old who never before sent away for goods . . . Tell us what you want in your own way, written in any language, no matter whether good or poor writing." Customers took them at their word. For example, there was this note from one irate purchaser: "I got the pump which i by from you, but why for God's sake you doan send me the handle. I loose to me by customer. Wats the use a pump when she doan treat me rite. I rote ten days and me customer he holloer for air like hell from the pump." Naturally, it was all a mistake. Soon there was another letter:

"Oh Hell after i rite i find the God damn handle in the box excuse me."