De Novo 

A boy, whose father had forbidden him the shooting of any further blackbirds (we need, had said the father, no more material for pies), envisioned new pleasure in shooting not at but towards the birds, which would cause them, he correctly hypothesized, to explode, as it were, vertically.  So he spread fine rich tempting seed at the base of the white barn wall after which (they had come) he fired bullets in rapid succession into the shadows the rising birds made, incurring, thusly, the spectacle of shot bird shadows rising, and, almost as quickly, a deep and thorough belt whipping of our protagonist, his father having found him, after the first and only round of that experiment, staring at the as yet incomprehensible arrangements of bullet holes in the still faintly vibrating wall.