From the March 24, 1934, issue

USED TO SHOOTING FROM HIP, PLAINSMAN SNAPS METEORITE

In the novel, Cranford (does anybody read that delightful old-fashioned tale any more?) a returned cousin from India, as mendacious as he is rich, tells of hunting on a Himalayan alp so high that when he fired at what he took to be a huge bird he found to his astonishment that he had “shot a seraphim.”