Names make news. Last week these names made this news:

Falling safety bars at a railway crossing between Amsterdam and Haarlem struck an automobile bearing ex-Kaiser Wilhelm. In time's nick his chauffeur inched the car out of the way of a hurtling locomotive.

Secretary of the Treasury Woodin sent some clothes & things in his Rolls-Royce to his son-in-law in Flushing, L. I. On the way Lawrence Redmond, his chauffeur, bumped a car ahead, caromed into a second, skidded into a third, slightly injuring five persons. Chauffeur Redmond was arrested for reckless driving.

Bussing to Bayonne, N. J. with one suitcase, Winthrop Rockefeller, 21, husky fourth son of John D. Rockefeller Jr., moved into a $4.50 per-week Y. M. C. A. room, began work in the personnel department of a Standard Oil of New Jersey refinery. A Yale junior learning the family business on vacation, he said: "I'm trying to get a look at the way the boys here live. But it's pretty tough because . . . I feel as though I were on exhibition. But I'm learning things and I love it."

In New York customs officials admitted, under a special collectors' provision of the 1930 Tariff Act, one copy of James Joyce's famed stream-of-consciousness novel Ulysses. Banned since its Paris publication in 1922, many a bootlegged Ulysses has been sold in the U. S. for $15 to $50. Its admission was preliminary to a suit by which Bennett Cerf hopes to legalize its U. S. publication.

Senator William Edgar Borah, 68, went to Baltimore's Johns Hopkins Hospital for his annual physical examination, was advised to have an operation on his prostate gland, had it, rested comfortably.

Put-putting out into Great South Bay to catch weakfish, with his son Robert. Actor Victor Moore (Of Thee I Sing's Vice President Alexander Throttlebottom) lost control of his outboard motorboat, Embobora II, when its tiller inexplicably came loose in his hand. Down upon him bore a dory. There was a smash-bang amidships and the next thing Alexander Throttlebottom knew he was thrashing about beneath his own overturned craft. He tried to duck out on one side only to crack his head on wreckage, see stars. Down he went again, coming up on the other side. Breathless, and his foot bruised, Alexander Throttlebottom was finally hauled into the dory after the most distressing experience since he was mis taken for a waiter by the convention managers who nominated him for Vice President. Next day, equipped with grappling irons and bluefish hooks, he re turned to the scene of the wreck, fished up his fishing tackle (all but his split bamboo silk-wrapped rod).

In Manhattan monstrous, acromegalic Primo Camera appeared before a referee in bankruptcy, sequel to a breach of prom ise verdict for $14,380.25 obtained against him by one Emelia Tersini, London wait ress (TIME, March 24, 1930). Demanded the referee: "Have you any money at all?" Camera : "I dono. That don't intrust me." Referee: "Do you know what a petition in bankruptcy is?" Camera: "Sure. Broke." Referee: "Is that all you know . . .?" Camera: "Yeah. No Mon'."

At Harvard Commencement, officially opened by ancient custom by the blue-coated, top-hatted, be-sworded High Sheriff of Middlesex County, Alfred Emanuel Smith was given an LL. D. de gree. To rousing applause Citizen Smith was saluted by a class orator: "Te quoque, Alfrede praestantissime, felix ille miles, quamquam carmina de viis Novi Eboraci cantare non possumus . . . hand minus iuvat salutare."*

Chicago's Police Commissioner James P. Allman surveyed the kaleidoscopic assortment of suspenders worn by his force, ordered black belts all around.

* "Most illustrious Alfred, that happy warrior, although we cannot sing songs of the sidewalks of New York . . . it is no less a pleasure to greet you."

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