KUDOS
“Not to exceed one hundred words.”—The Editors
I
A hundred words to eulogize
And crown with figurative flowers
Our honoured one?—
And chant his praises to the skies
During these merry midnight hours?
It can’t be done!
II
Search dictionaries for his fête!
Rummage Thesaurus through and through
And also rob
Encyclopedias to date!
Their million words are all too few
To honour Cobb.
III
No! All the languages of Earth
Set to the music of the spheres
Can’t do the job!
Not words but hearts enshrine your worth,
Master of laughter and of tears,
Old Irvin Cobb!
—Robert W. Chambers
You may praise, you may flatter I. Cobb if you will,
But the band of his derby will fit round him still.
—Julian Street
BY HARRISON FISHER
There is nothing in the world pleasanter than meeting nice people, and by nice people I mean in the case of men, good-tempered and entertaining people. Women, to be really nice, must also be good looking. An author—it is to this tribe that Mr. Cobb belongs—gives us the pleasure of meeting him twice; meeting him twice, that is to say, for the first time. I met Mr. Cobb in a train between Chicago and Memphis, a vile train which went through maybe a dull country. Mr. Cobb was the one redeeming feature of the journey. I had him in my bag and I fought for the possession of him with my wife. He was nicely bound and there were more than 200 pages of him. The next occasion on which I met Mr. Cobb for the first time was at an afternoon party. It was quite as dull as the railway journey until—a foolish person insisted on my making a speech and then on another man making a speech. That shows how dull the party was. Then the same person, turned suddenly wise, said that Mr. Cobb was to tell stories, and he did. The party was not dull any more. That was the second of my two first meetings with Mr. Cobb. I met the author and I met the man. There was no disappointment about either meeting.
—George A. Birmingham
If Irvin Cobb had ever been a ball player he would have been more of an all-around player than Tyrus R. Cobb by about twenty-two inches.
—Grantland Rice
“I CAN’T THINK OF ANY REASON
WHY I SHOULDN’T SAY I LIKE
THE GERMANS, BECAUSE I DO
LIKE THEM, VERY MUCH!”
BY FREDERICK DORR STEELE
I have been asked to write “an appreciation” of Irvin S. Cobb. I appreciate Cobb, but if I appreciate him too much he will raise his prices, and if I appreciate him too little he will seek an editor who understands the artistic temperament, so I appreciate him just enough. I appreciate him because he makes laughter; because he makes tears; and because he makes circulation. But most of all I appreciate him because he is the only man writing for the magazines who was not discovered by Robert Harding Davis. As Editor of the Paducah Bugle, Cobb was the first man to discover and appreciate Irvin S. Cobb. To-night he sits among us a monumental example of apt appreciation’s artless aid.
—George Horace Lorimer
I can imagine nothing more superfluous than giving a dinner to Irvin Cobb, regarded from the viewpoints of nourishment, nutrition and waist measurement. If, however, there is some idea in the proceeding of giving the lie to the ancient calumny that no one loves a fat man, then the occasion may serve a useful purpose. If it goes still further and seeks to establish affirmatively that every one loves one particular fat man, I heartily endorse the undertaking. If this is the theory, a number of dinners should be given to Irvin Cobb, and I should be glad to attend every one of them.
—James S. Metcalfe
ME UND COBB
BY CESARE