Word: earth
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...heart} for this country To twist a lariat of us and throw it Over the ocean-to-ocean-flinging land And flip its loop across the lifted, crashing Defiant horns of the wild American spirit And with a twist around the saddle horn Drop it to earth, and on its sprawling hide Burn the clear new-world brand that unto men Shall be a witness of our heritage Wherever that great untamable beast shall toss The stars of heaven on its horns and graze Across the grassy ranges of the world...
...cease, his 40 "Immortals" waited his resurrection. Authorities looked at the body, decided it had better be buried while there was something still left to bury. Next day in overalls and gingham the "Immortals," who support themselves by farming, chanted a requiem as Brother Isaiah was lowered into the earth. He lay in a plain pine box, his head pointed toward the north, his long, white whiskers flowing over his long, white robe. His followers plowed and harrowed the earth above him, went away to await his second coming...
...This damned thing has gone nuts!" One day last week that remark was radioed down to Earth from a crippled balloon high in the stratosphere. It represented the supreme frustration of three army officers marooned in a purple-black sky at 60,000 ft. Their rubberized gasbag, biggest ever, yawned with an enormous...
...Rule of 87" allows one set of octuplets to 38 million million births. Professor Edward Murray East estimates 5.5 million births on earth yearly. Leaving aside the fact that the earth's population has grown from a few millions to two billion in the last 2,000 years, the world can count mathematically on only one set of octuplets being born every 690,000 years. As Physicist James Jeans declares that the Age of Man runs back 300,000 years, Mrs. Ting's marvel seemed to be some 390,000 years ahead of time...
...reapers to scoop up lost heads of precious wheat, would drive the traveling locust on into Northern China. There he might get his wings soaked in torrents of crop-destroying rain, if he did not fly to Western China. There drought and the sun would drop him to earth at last, scorch him to death at 115°. But on his world junket the Argentine locust would have seen what sharp-eyed traders began to foresee last spring. There is not enough wheat growing in the fields of the world to feed all the people in the world...