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

U. S. newspapers with proletarian audiences screeched at Countess Barbara Hutton Mdivani Haugwitz-Reventlow when the Paris-Midi reported that she had paid Singer Ganna Walska $1,200,000 for a collection of emeralds which Napoleon III once gave to his mistress, the Contessa di Castiglione. Next day the reported purchase was denied, and in the U. S. arrived first pictures of the christening in London of Countess Barbara's burly three-month son Lance. Held up for photographers at the door of Marlborough House Chapel, gurgling Baby Lance showed less resemblance to his sleek parents than to his chubby grandfather, Franklyn L. Hutton, who beamed over Countess Barbara's shoulder.

Asked what he would do with his $1,500 soldiers' bonus. New Jersey's Governor Harold Giles Hoffman cracked back at the Princeton undergraduates who have been baiting him for months: "I'm going to send my daughter to Princeton, so she can join the Veterans of Future Wars."

Over Middleburg, Pa. Pennsylvania's 45-year-old Governor George Howard Earle buzzed about alone in his own autogiro to complete the 50 hours of solo flying necessary for a license. As he landed, he put on the brakes too hard, cracked up in a somersault which ruined his plane, soaked him in gasoline, bruised his hand. Pooh-poohing the injury, he hustled off to a banquet, remarked: "I am used to getting hurt. In 20 years of polo-playing I was knocked out 15 times and sometimes for long periods. I got a fractured skull, a broken back and other injuries, and a little thing like this does not bother me." Two days later he took a flying examination, became the first U. S. Governor to get a license to pilot an autogiro.

A 300-year-old tradition holds that no woman may enter Harvard Yard in Cambridge, Mass, on Commencement Day. Last week Mrs. Mary Curley Donnelly, 25-year-old daughter of Massachusetts' Governor James Michael Curley, broke the tradition by driving her automobile into the Yard behind her father's as he arrived for the ceremonies. An official quickly caught Mrs. Donnelly, led her out. John J. Appel of Teaneck, N. J. found in his bungalow a 15-lb. snapping turtle with "Alf Landon" painted on its back. To commemorate the 150th anniversary of Lynchburg, Va.'s city charter, the U. S. Treasury consented to issue coins bearing the likeness of Virginia Senator Carter Glass, who will thus become the second person in U. S. history so honored during life, the first so honored alone. In 1926 Calvin Coolidge shared a half dollar with George Washington to mark the sesquicentennial of the Declaration of Independence Picking a summer house at Saranac Lake, N. Y., Scientist Albert Einstein remarked that he wanted it to escape curiosity seekers who "peer into my windows at Princeton."

Aging Actress Maxine Elliott, 63, friend of the late King Edward VII, whose villa on the French Riviera was nicknamed "The House of Lords," had it house-cleaned to entertain members of the suite of King Edward VIII, His Majesty now intending to spend August next door in the villa of Lord Cholmondeley (pronounced "Chumly").

In Hollywood, Cinema Director Woodbridge Strong Van Dyke (Thin Man, Naughty Marietta) went bowling for the first time, forgot to let go of the bowl. Towed like the tail of a comet half way down the alley, he rose with a sheepish face, a sprained leg.

In Torrington, Conn. 13-year-old Minnie Pisanti ran into the street, was killed by an automobile driven by Alma Gluck Zimbalist, soprano wife of Violinist Efrem Zimbalist. Under his oxygen tent at Riverside, Calif. Comedian W. C. Fields (Poppy), fighting pneumonia, was shown a newspaper picture of himself with the caption "Improved." Cracked he: "If I die tonight, they can say I died 'improved.' "

In existence for four years has been Lilypons, Md., so named by its postmaster and mayor, Clarence Cornelius Curtis Thomas who also owns its chief industry: 135 acres of water-lily ponds and one of the world's largest goldfish hatcheries. Although she has had her Christmas cards mailed from there for the past two years, Soprano Lily Pons visited Lilypons last week for the first time, was photographed trilling at its water lilies.

Serving on the county grand jury in Portland, Ore. was small, spry Elias Disney, 77-year-old father of famed Walt (Mickey Mouse) Disney. Said he: "We are very proud of Walter, especially when he's a good boy. . . . How did he get started drawing? Well, he always liked to draw. There was a barber in our neighborhood who used to give Walter 25-c- a week for a picture, something about his barbershop. Walter was seven or eight years old then. He paid for his haircuts that way. . . . Walter is a poor hand to write. We just hear from him about twice a year."

With his wife Flora, his stenographer daughter Ruth, Elias Disney has lived in Portland since 1921, owns several small apartment houses. "There's not much to do around them," he complained. "It's kind of nice to get a chance to do this grand jury work for a change."

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