Word: corncobs
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...gaudy, rustic-looking eccentric, Ray Sprigle has been wearing a ten-gallon sombrero for 15 years, ever since he went to Arizona to solve a Pittsburgh murder. The ten-gallon hat, a silver-ringed cane, and a fuming corncob pipe are the trademarks of the Post-Gazette's 58-year-old star reporter. To disguise himself for his latest assignment-to expose Pittsburgh's lively black market in meat-he gave up hat and cane, but not his pipe...
...office in the Department of the Interior, stoop-shouldered, intense little John Collier shuffled through a neat stack of papers, stopped occasionally to stare at a corncob pipe in an empty water glass on his desk. In his baggy old long-sleeved green sweater, he looked like a country storekeeper closing out the week's accounts. Actually, he was closing out twelve years with the Government...
...slept well, eaten a hearty breakfast. Now with his corncob pipe he pointed over the glassy, green waters of Leyte (rhymes with 8-A) Gulf, where rode the greatest fleet ever assembled in the South west Pacific. Around him were hundreds of transports, shepherded by an Australian squadron and MacArthur's own Seventh Fleet, reinforced with jeep carriers from Admiral Chester Nimitz' vast armada of seagoing airdromes. On the horizon loomed the majestic battleships of Admiral Wil liam F. Halsey's Third Fleet - some of them ghosts from the graveyard of Pearl Harbor. Beyond the horizon steamed...
Nannie, born into slavery, had lived all her life with Grandmother Sophia Jane. At 85 she retired to a little cabin, wrapped a blue bandanna about her head, smoked a corncob for the first time and thought about the 13 children she had borne (eleven had died). Sometimes she worried over what God would say when he saw her black skin. "Nonsense!" snapped Grand mother Sophia Jane. "He sees only souls. . . . Of course you're going to Heaven...
Family Troubles. Editor and author of the Atlantic's series is Charles L. Webster's son, Mark Twain's grandnephew, corncob-pipe-smoking Samuel (for Clemens) Charles (for his father) Webster of Manhattan. His helper was his tiny, chipper, 91-year-old mother, Sam Clemens' niece and his favorite youngster during his Mississippi pilot days. Mrs. Webster saved the 500-odd letters through the years -literally in an attic trunk...