Word: pheasants
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...dawn broke clean and sharp. In their cages near by, two lions stretched, began their endless prowling. A caged cock pheasant woke screaming. A hare ran quickly over the brittle, dew-smirched summer grass. Stripped to the waist, two men faced each other -one young (32), lean and handsome, the other older (51), swarthy, heavy-shouldered...
...eastern pines, a gallery of 80 or more started out with the dogs. Not a few with a nose for points felt they had seen the championship heat in the very first brace: The Texas Ranger, sensation of the prairie-chicken trials, v. Tarheelia's Lucky Strike, 1940 pheasant champion. They were right. The Ranger, a five-year-old liver-&-white pointer, owned by D. B. McDaniel of Houston and handled by little Jack Harper, was judged champion. Runner-up: Lucky Strike. During the three days, The Ranger found eleven coveys-four of them in the final...
...There is a natural affinity between sport and book collecting. . . . The joys of the chase and the exultation in achievement after an arduous hunt, whether of fox, pheasant or folio, have much in common." Thus graciously the Grolier Club last week mixed foxes and folios in an exhibit of members' sporting books and prints in its Manhattan clubhouse. Within its print-hung, paneled walls, smelling of old leather bindings and armchairs, the Grolier is a club of booklovers more interested in a richly tooled cover than in a succulent footnote or limpid trochee. It was founded...
...Engineer Roger Sprague of Omaha's Baker Ice Machine Co., who serviced the Winchell account, the frozen pheasant episode gave an idea. Mindful that most U. S. farmers lack easy means of preserving for their own use food which they raise, he saw the possibility of a new market for ice machinery: plants to freeze and store food for the public. The idea took years to catch on. But today thousands of farmers go to cold-storage locker plants, rent lockers big enough to hold 250 Ibs. of meat (or 6½ cu. ft. of any food...
...middle of a lake, near the former Polish border, he inhabits what was originally the fortress of a medieval robber baron. All summer long, Lauritz Melchior invites his soul in this rustic barony. He likes to dress in Lederhosen, hunt his own land for rabbit, red deer or pheasant. On these expeditions he always carries his little brass hunting horn, blows a blast on it like Siegfried himself...