"Names make news." Last week the following names made the following news:

The widows of two onetime U. S. Presidents made journeys last week.

Mrs. Theodore Roosevelt, 67, wearing a dress of black brocaded silk, black kid gloves, black hose, black suede slippers, motored from her home in Oyster Bay, Long Island, to Brooklyn, where she addressed 500 women of the Needlework Guild at the Flatbush Congregational Church. Said she: "As we sit comfortably in the pleasant twilight, we must remember that the twilight does not last until morning."

Mrs. Benjamin Harrison, 70, went from her Manhattan apartment (1160 Fifth Ave.) to the family homestead in Indianapolis, looked after her property interests, visited friends, stopped at the Propylaeum. She was the second wife of President Harrison. Widow of Walter Erskine Dimmick, a lawyer who died at sea, she married President Harrison in 1896, three years after he left the White House.

Sir James Matthew Barrie, author of Peter Pan and other whimsies, was thoroughly vexed at the noise above his apartment in Adelphi Terrace, London. At 3 a. m. he sent a note of protest to the disturbers. At 5 a. m. the noise and the party ceased. The party was given by two newlyweds, David Tennant (son of Viscountess Grey of Fallodon) and Mrs. Tennant (nee Hermione Baddeley, actress). They wore orange sleeping suits of silk; the guests, too, came in blazing pajamas; many brought bottles of hair restorers, ink, gasoline, Thames water. Champagne was not lacking. After the party, Mrs. Tennant said: "Bottle and pajama parties ought to be the vogue in weather like the present. ... I think London will take to the idea."

Clarence H. De Mar, famed middle-aged marathoner, introduced last week by Gov. Alvan Tufts Fuller of Massachusetts, spoke to the Boston City Club in this wise: "Now I don't want you to think I'm selfish, but I prayed at Baltimore [in 1926] and I won by over a mile. That was the first of five successive marathon victories for me, and I've felt ashamed since then that I called for divine assistance for a marathon race."

The crossed eyes of Ben Turpin, cinemactor, were insured for $100,000, the money payable to his producer, Mack Sennett, if the eyes become normal.