WORTH “10,000”
By Irvin S. Cobb You might have called Vincent C. Marr a self-made man and…
WORDS AND MUSIC
By Irvin S. Cobb WHEN Breck Tandy killed a man he made a number of…
WHEN THE FIGHTING WAS GOOD
By Irving S. Cobb MISTER SHERIFF,” ordered the judge, “bring Pressley G. Harper to the…
WHEN AUGUST THE SECOND WAS APRIL THE FIRST
By Irvin S. Cobb HOW Ethan A. Pratt, formerly of South New Medford, in the…
UP CLAY STREET
By Irving S. Cobb ONE behind the other, three short sections of a special came…
TO THE EDITOR OF THE SUN
By Irvin S. Cobb There was a sound, heard in the early hours of a…
THE START OF A DREAM
By Irvin S. Cobb For years it was the dream of our life—I should say…
THE RAVELIN’ WOLF
By Irvin S. Cobb When the draft came to our town as it came to…
THE MOB FROM MASSAC
By Irving S. Cobb YOU might call it a tragedy—this thing that came to pass…
THE LUCK PIECE
By Irvin S. Cobb UNTIL now Trencher—to give him the name by which of all…