Word: hickock
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...Kansas. They were prosperous; they lived in a peaceful, law-abiding community; they were liked and admired. But one day a year or so ago, a prisoner in the penitentiary, a sometime farm hand who had once worked on the Clutter farm, told two fellow convicts, Richard Eugene Hickock and Perry Edward Smith, about a safe full of money that Herbert Clutter kept in the house. The safe, like the local legend of Herbert Clutter's great wealth, was a product of imagination, but that trivial fable was the beginning of a twisted thread that for the Clutters ended...
Rene Tillich's short story "Point of View" and Ralph Hickock's poem "Song" are the two best pieces in the first issue of Voices. James Hill and Eleanor Kester both contribute some good poetry, although the bank-clerk-and-pin-collar ghost of T.S. Eliot appears to haunt Hill and most of the Voices poets...
Indeed, that ghost and a somewhat inane collection of conversation and childhood incident called "Cousin Jack" are the only real faults of the current issue. Hill, Hickock, Claude McNeal (who edites the magazine along with Hickock) and a couple of the female poets seem to be looking at Eliot as a mentor or an enemy--but not looking beyond him. A bogus character named T.E. Stearns goes on for several pages of Eliot parody--which should have gone out of fashion several decades...
Shortly starred in Ned Buntline's Wild West show, Bill Cody became a promoter's dream. Unlike his roughhewn pal, "Wild Bill" Hickock, Cody never "spat the liquid on the stage" in whisky-drinking acts, never barked, "Any damn fool would know that was cold tea." He usually muffed, but never scorned such lines as: "Fear not, fair maid; by heavens, you are safe at last with Buffalo Bill, who is ever ready to risk, life and die if need be in the defense of weak and helpless womanhood." Then he stood blushing on the stage, "handsome...
Rapid Writer. Ned Buntline wrote hundreds of western and adventure tales. He could turn out a 610-page thriller in 62 hours-complete with such immortal lines as: "[Isabella] arose from the couch whereon she had been carelessly thrown . . ." He could ride and shoot like a Cody or a Hickock. When he was not dead drunk, he could spout a temperance speech that would awaken the remorse of the most sodden toper. When he was not in jail for fraud, slander, bigamy, libel or inciting to riot, he wrung women's hearts with his impassioned campaigns for purity. This...