Word: sergeevich
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...Republic's youthful, dynamic Dmitry Polyansky, premier of the largest of the 15 Soviet republics, tried to put over his report by quoting a dirt farmer's lyrical letter to Khrushchev: "Affectionately our people call corn 'Nikita's daughter,' and in truth you, Nikita Sergeevich, gave corn its vital importance. I think we can compare corn, the queen of the fields, with a rocket that will thrust us into the orbit of Communist abundance and help us sooner to overtake America." But when Polyansky began talking about poor local corn harvests, Khrushchev interrupted: "Once...
...said bad weather cut corn yields, Khrushchev gave him a brutal verbal beating. "I'm certain, Comrade Podgorny, that the figures on corn yield you just cited are only for half the crop. The other half of the corn was stolen, torn up by the roots." "Correct, Nikita Sergeevich," cringed Podgorny. Roared Khrushchev: "So what has the weather to do with it? The crop was pilfered, stolen, and yet you say weather prevented growing a good harvest. Can we put it that way?" Podgorny: "We can." Khrushchev: "Then why didn't you mention...
...pomp of ancient Rome or the jeweled brilliance of the great courts of France could shadow the moment; the eye of history could scarcely encompass the spectacle of so many potentates, Presidents and dictators. There sat Nikita Sergeevich Khrushchev, his pink skull fringed with white, his face now frozen as a death mask, now galvanized into full-muscled motion. Behind him, rust-haired Josip Broz Tito of Yugoslavia posed self-assured and well fed. Scattered across the green-carpeted room, the members of the satellite pack waited with dull docility, their reflexes string-tied to the master puppeteer: Rumania...
...primitive state of their art. Kremlinologists still could not exclude the simpler explanation offered last week by Nikita himself. Said Khrushchev: "I talked with Mikoyan over the telephone just yesterday from Pitsunda [on the Black Sea coast], where he is taking his vacation. He told me: 'Nikita Sergeevich. come on down. The weatheriswonderful...
...Jimmie Driftwood takes up his guitar and plunks them out with the ease of a molting rattler shucking its skin. His most recent inspiration came to him via a radio newscast while he was touring the Ozarks in his air-conditioned Buick one hot day this summer. Nikita Sergeevich Khrushchev, he heard, would soon be a visitor to the U.S. Jimmie began to sing, his wife Cleda got out paper and pencil, and three weeks later RCA Victor was pressing 100,000 copies of The Bear Flew Over the Ocean. Sample lyrics...