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