Word: cornfield
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...laboratory in a cornfield outside Moscow, Lysenko gets every facility and encouragement. He goes right on trying to change nature in far-out ways by grafting pine branches on fir trees, injecting the blood of Plymouth Rock chickens into Buff Orpington hens, trying to turn wheat into rye. He complains righteously against Science Academy President Aleksandr Nesmeyanov (TIME cover, June 2, 1958) for criticizing his experiments. Says he pointedly: "I am infinitely happy that my modest work is highly prized by the party government and Nikita Khrushchev in person...
Before he made himself king of the Soviet mountain, Nikita Khrushchev fought for and proudly wore the title of king of the Soviet cornfield. Even now, when Soviet agriculture lags, Khrushchev charges furiously forth to defend his crown. Last year, as the year before, the Soviet harvest fell short, and once again Khrushchev is laying about him viciously in the barnyard. He has fired his Agriculture Minister, he has ordered a reorganization of the whole farm sector, and last week he put on a roaring show when the Communist Party's Central Committee met to discuss what is still...
...collection of deep thinkers pondering truth in a cornfield last week near Palo Alto, Calif.? See EDUCATION, Time to Think...
...dawn broke over Illinois' cornlands last week, Farmer John Landers, 38, who owns 400 acres near Grand Ridge, opened wide the throttle of his big International tractor and roared into a 20-acre cornfield. The three heads on his $2,400 corn picker attacked the tall standing rows of corn. Long before Farmer Landers had made even one turn around the field, the trailer hitched to his tractor was overflowing with fat, golden ears. His expected yield: 90 bu. to the acre, v. less than 60 last year...
...Back There!" Barred from following the official party into a cornfield reserved for Khrushchev's inspection, reporters and photographers went into an encircling movement through the tall corn, materialized suddenly under the noses of Garst and visitors. "Get back! Get back there!" bellowed Garst, surprised and angry. "Bring those horses in here; ride 'em down." he commanded a mounted troop of Greene County Pleasure Riders. "Get back there or I'll kick you out. even if your name is Harrison Salisbury." he threatened, and as good as his word, he planted a sturdy Garst brogan...