Word: blam
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...season now, yet one day last week saw a host of hunters march forth from Merrimack, N. H., with guns loaded, triggers oiled. Through woods and fields near the farm of Thomas H. Braden they prowled. Before long Police Chief Frank R. Flanders was seen taking aim and- ker-blam-down came the quarry: a full-grown (60-lb.) male baboon. The hunt continued. Toward nightfall Dr. Paul Denicola fired into a copse near an open field and another baboon breathed its last. That was the end of Merrimack's great May hunting day. The baboons, lately bought...
...gunners competing, on two days of sunlight, gusts and shadow last week, for the amateur clay target championship of the U.S. Businessmen, farmers, clerks, lawyers, fine shots all, they came out for their turns in squads of five. All day for two days the wind bore the steady blam, blam, blam-blam of a little war as the shooters moved, a serious-minded army about 180 strong, from stand to stand at the club's eight traps, until each had shot 400 targets apiece. A bright sun at the gunners' backs made visibility good against a horizon...
...went a covey of quail, flushed "wild" by the too-eager dogs. The President raised his gun but did not fire. Soon Flossie, smartest of the setters, whipped into a point. The President walked up and-blam-missed the single bird that whirred away. There were four more points, four more blams. Not a feather was cut. The President went home "skunked." Col. Starling suggested that the trouble was the full-choke bore of the Presidential gun, patterned for trapshooting rather than live game. From the way he shrugged and scowled, it seemed the President blamed his bulky green mackinaw...
...Buffalo, N. Y., one George Malloy, 19, walking to church, spied and picked up a small disc that bulged in the middle. During a Methodist-Episcopal service he amused himself by picking and stabbing at his curious treasure with his pen knife. His inattention bothered no one until Blam! off blew Picker Malloy's thumb and forefinger...
...Berkeley, Calif., near the Le-Conte School, a .38-calibre revolver cartridge lay on the turf, unnoticed. The sun shone, grass sprouted and along came John Haggerty, school janitor, steering a mowing machine. Blam! Janitor Haggerty cried "YOW!" tottered from his mower bleeding from a bullet-grazed forehead...