When science had done so much, what might science not do? In Massachusetts last week, many a fanner and townsman listened to word of the newest miracle, eager to believe. And the wonder grew—for a while.
Some thought it all started when the Clark Poultry Farms at Middleboro had a bout with coccidiosis (poultry disease) six weeks ago. The Clarks, father & son, tried the medicines they knew, but still their chickens died. At last they called on a dark, popeyed man named John Brown, who lived nearby. He had, said rumor, a mysterious something, vaguely connected with atomic energy and called "the master cell," that could work scientific wonders.
Brown gave the Clarks a perforated concrete disc and told them to soak it in water and feed the water to the chickens. The Clarks followed directions. Like a miracle, they reported, the "coxy" stopped spreading. Some of the afflicted chickens even made a comeback.
The news spread from farm to farm. Other poultrymen asked for the magic discs, and Brown gave them freely. The master cells, he explained, need 72 hours to mature; they spread through the water, endowing it with life-giving energy.
Fertility Up. And there were the witnesses. Said Merrill Sampson of Lakeville, director of the State Duck Growers' Association: "Brown's master cell upped my egg production 50%. Upped fertility 20%. I thought it was a lot of hokum, but it is the fountain of youth." Reported Dairyman Wilfred Schobel: "This stuff makes the coats of horses and cows shine like mirrors. Makes cows give more milk and eat less. Makes 'em more quiet, too. Took the wiggle out of one real mean cow I own. She just stands there now—all full of the master cell—and behaves."
Farmers began to gather at John Brown's farm to stare with the worshiping eyes of religious devotees. Behind the house was a shed with a sign: "Cell Laboratories—Natural Sciences." The cellar of the house contained three barrels covered with scraps of awning. To the uninitiated eye, the barrels seemed to hold only stagnant water, but Brown would murmur: "This is Life."
Newspapers picked up the story. One reporter, who came to scoff, turned into a pious member of the cult. Long lines of cars jammed the road in front of John Brown's farm. More than a thousand people crowded around the shrine. The master of the master cell had to call for police to keep them from trampling his cell-treated corn.
Fifth Dimension. The more people came, the wilder John Brown talked. He declaimed like a prophet, his dark eyes glowing. "For five years," he told a newsman, "I've been living in the fifth dimension. The master cell has 38 crystals. This develops in an evolutionary process, and the crystals increase. After a while, we'll all be made up of crystals, and we'll all be living in the fifth dimension. We'll all be living in space, and there will be no such thing as time. It'll be a beautiful world."
Cripples and invalids came. "My discovery," Brown proclaimed, "will increase the life span of man to 120 years. Don't worry. My cell also extends the sexual life of man ... It will make old women feel like kittens, and old men potent. I can shake the hand of an asthmatic," said Brown, "and he will be well."