A group of aging men trudged slowly through the imperial paddyfield in Tokyo's Palace compound, stooping to cut the rice plants in an annual harvest ritual as old as the gods of Japan. Their leader, in a gray shirt and a battered panama hat, was once considered the descendant of the sun and is still patron of all agriculture--the Emperor himself. In a traditional announcement, the Palace reported that Hirohito, 68, and his chamberlains had harvested "a good crop" from the 350-square-yard paddy. Part of the sacred grain will be distilled into black and white sake and offered to imperial ancestors in the Palace's inner sanctuary.

The long-awaited heavyweight fight between Ex-Champion Muhammad All and Joe Frazier, who is recognized as the champ by six states, nearly came off last week on a Philadelphia street. After quarreling with Frazier on a local TV talk show, ALI (who lost his title after refusing induction into the military) lay in wait outside the studio. When Frazier emerged, Ali hit him in the shoulder with a long, looping right. Before followers could restrain both fighters, Ali threw another punch that fell short. "If Clay gets a license to fight, we'll fight him," Frazier's manager said afterward. "Until then, we're willing to use him as a sparring partner --and we'll pay him."

It was a warm Saturday afternoon in Manhattan, and the boys could hardly wait to try out their new toy rockets. Accompanied by a governess and a Secret Service man, John-John Kennedy, 8, and a playmate found an appropriate site in Central Park. While strollers stopped to stare, the boys successfully launched the plastic missiles, which, with the aid of a propellant of vinegar mixed with baking soda, rose about twelve feet into the air. John-John was so delighted by the performance that he blurted: "Now I have my own little Cape Kennedy."

Although they are both Republicans and more or less liberal, two Rockefeller brothers seemed to be in friendly competition to win the favor of Georgia's Democratic reactionary Governor Lester Maddox. Aware that Arkansas Governor Winthrop Rockefeller had delivered a shiny orange bicycle to Maddox after Lester had jokingly complained about his lack of transportation, New York Governor Nelson Rockefeller could hardly wait to upstage his brother. How did Maddox like the bike from

Winthrop? he asked. One with a motor would be better, Lester allowed. The answer was not lost on Nelson, who bought a pea-green motorbike and sent it to the statehouse in Atlanta. Put-putting happily around his office, Maddox offered his newest benefactor a free ride any time he comes south.

"Actually, we're already married, really," says America's 25-year-old folk hero, "because people get married when they love each other." Still, to avoid "a hassle," Arlo Guthrie and Jackie Hyde, 25, will soon take the vows--possibly in the deconsecrated Stockbridge, Mass, church that was his home in the film Alice's Restaurant. The balladeer-song-writer met his "very groovy chick" while performing in Los Angeles at the Troubadour Cafe, where she was serving tables. "She has the same philosophy I have," he says. "We're just interested in living."

Looking up the address of Baroness Alix de Rothschild in the Paris phone directory, Construction Worker Josef Stadnik proceeded to her duplex apartment, where he confronted her son, David, 27, with a pistol. Demanding 2,000,000 francs ($360,000) to spare David's life, the nervous gunman forced the young heir to call his father, Rothschild Bank President Baron Guy de Rothschild, for the ransom. No sooner said than done. "In a situation like mine, you know, with all the contacts you have, it is not hard to find a big sum," David later explained. When Baron Guy arrived to pay off in person, Stadnik commandeered the bank's chauffeured car and made a dramatic getaway run. But alerted police moved in at a stoplight, smashed a window and stunned Stadnik with a pistol butt.

"A crown of glittering and priceless jewels," was Arthur Houghton Jr.'s metaphor. The president of New York's Metropolitan Museum of Art was describing a gift that is soon to become part of the Met's permanent exhibits: the art collection of the late Robert Lehman, the investment banker who died in August. It was quite a birthday gift for the museum's 100th anniversary. The value of the greatest bequest in the Metropolitan's history has been estimated to be $100 million, but it is probably much higher; many of the nearly 3,000 objects are of a kind and quality no longer obtainable on the art market, making it impossible to assess their true value. Besides paintings (such masterpieces as El Greco's St. Jerome as Cardinal and Rembrandt's The Painter, Gerard de Lairesse) and drawings, the collection includes bronzes, tapestries, ceramics, jewelry and furniture from the 12th to the 20th century. Said Museum Director Thomas Hoving to the 400 guests at the lavish party in honor of the Met's benefactors: "The sad thing is that Robert Lehman himself is not here to announce the news of this extraordinarily munificent gift."

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