General Dwight Eisenhower, after only 2 1/2 weeks in civvies, made the Custom. Tailors Guild's annual list of the Ten Best-Dressed Men. What got him the votes: his "erect bearing and easy stance" combined with his "discriminating sense of color and style."

The "best head-geared men in the U.S.," declared the International Artists Committee (illustrators, artists and photographers), include Harry S. Truman ("The Front Brim Turned Up type"), Lucius Beebe ("Most Inappropriate Wearer of the Silk Top Hat type"), and Henry A. Wallace ("The Turban type").

Lord Inverchapel, retiring Ambassador to the U.S., got a nod from the British Foreign Office, which made him official greeter for this summer's Olympic Games.

In London, Mme. Tussaud's waxworks voted out a few old favorites. Set to be scrapped: Jack Dempsey, Gene Tunney, ex-King Refer of Yugoslavia, the late Actor George Arliss, the late "strongman" John Metaxas of Greece and Lord Beaverbrook. From their waxy ruins will rise the figure of Comic Danny Kaye, latest toast of London. Also to be unveiled shortly: a carrot-haired effigy of Greer Garson, first actress to be waxed since Katharine Hepburn in 1935.

Boston University made a nice distinction between radio and cinema arts: to 20th Century-Fox's Spyros P. Skouras and J. Arthur Rank's J. Arthur Rank went honorary doctorates of laws; to RCA's David Sarnoff an honorary doctorate of commercial science.

Alabama's hulking Governor "Big Jim" Folsom hulked into Manhattan to be installed as "No. 1 Leap Year Bachelor" by the publicity-conscious Barbizon Studio of Fashion Modeling. In the course of a much-photographed kissing tour of the city, he managed to stop traffic on Fifth Avenue.* He also delivered himself of an opinion on the Marshall Plan which disclosed that he had not altogether forgotten the paternity suit against him (TIME, March 15): "When it comes a-weanin' time [those European countries] are gonna squeal. You ever weaned a baby, honey? No? You try it, honey."

To Have & Have Not

Left by the late Will Irwin, onetime muckraker, veteran jack-of-all-letters: less than $5,000.

Left by the late John R. Gregg, inventor of Gregg Shorthand: more than $2,000,000.

Going & Coming

Elder Statesman Jan Christian Smuts, Prime Minister of South Africa, took a 783-mile hop from Capetown to Johannesburg to crown the "Wool Queen," next day crowned Miss South Africa, in the presence of Miss Britain, Miss France and Miss America (Barbara Jo Walker). Coming up shortly: national elections.

Paris' Raymond Duncan, exoatriate brother of Dancer Isadora, headed for San Francisco on his first visit to hu old home town in 38 years, stopped off en route at Los Angeles, in flowing Grecian robes, sandals, long hair and all, and explained his philosophy of actionalism: "I'm not teaching--I'm living a philosophy. I'm like a rabbit on a vivisection table: I'm living it out."

Two prominent D.P.s got a royal welcome to Manhattan: Rumania's ex-King Michael and his mother Queen Helen. They weathered a whopping (more than 150 newsfolk) press conference on the

Queen Elizabeth, and set off on a tour of the town. They took in the Flower Show and the police lineup (where Michael was "mugged" for the Rogues' Gallery), shopped along Fifth Avenue, toured the docks, and visited a newspaper composing room. Michael later flew over the Statue of Liberty, and enjoyed the trip so much that he thought he might buy the plane.

Odds & Ends

Auctioned off in Paris to a curio collector*: a wavy blonde lock of Marie Antoinette's hair, snipped just before she was guillotined, and a chestnut tuft of Napoleon's, snipped after his death on St. Helena. Marie Antoinette's brought 20,000 francs (about $65), Napoleon's exactly half as much.

Luck was with almond-eyed Gertrude Voronoff, cousin-of Magda Lupescu Hohenzollern and wife of Dr. Serge Voronoff, 82-year-old exponent of youth-through-monkey-glands. A Bronx housewife had found what she thought was a cheap, flower-shaped brooch. After wearing it occasionally for two years, she discovered that it was set with 194 diamonds, 21 carved rubies and 56 amber topazes, and was worth some $5,000. She turned it over to the police, who recalled that such a brooch had been reported lost in 1943 by Mme. Voronoff, who promptly cabled from Monaco claiming it.

Hearth & Home

"There is a sleeping sickness among the women of the land," announced touring Novelist Fannie Hurst, in startled Providence. "This generaton of the daughters of career women is retrogressing into . . . that thing known as The Home."

Leggy Litterateuse Gypsy Rose Lee, 33, revealed her own plans to retrogress. After two pretty noisy marriages (one in a water taxi, another in which the bride disclosed that she felt like "an Aztec virgin being prepared for the sacrifice"), she decided to try something on the quiet side. Her groom-to-be: Spanish-born Painter Julio de Diego, 47, also making his third attempt.

After three years, buxom Carole Landis, 29, publicly considered shedding her fourth husband, Producer W. Horace Schmidlapp. Thinking it over, she concluded: "You can't have a good marriage and be parted as we have since our wedding."

Ups & Downs

Senators Robert A. Taft and Owen Brewster walked away from a forced landing in Maine. The engine of a plane they were in gave up 15 minutes out of Augusta, and the pilot landed on the solid-frozen Kennebec River. Ill effects: a slight leg-weariness after a half-mile hike through deep snow.

Millionheiress Barbara Hutton Troubetzkoy, her doctor said, was fit after two intestinal operations in a Swiss hospital, but may need a third (minor) operation.

Betty Grable went home to bed with a sprained ankle after a misstep during a studio dance rehearsal.

Lanai Turner settled down in a Hollywood hospital with a wrenched back and twisted left arm after a nasty fall in an on-the-set wrestling match with co-star Gene Kelly.

Tommy Harmon, Michigan halfback hero of 1940, felt and looked much better after a plastic surgery job on his well-beaten beak. Harmon, now a Los Angeles sports announcer, explained that he had grown tired of breathing through his mouth.

Vacationing King Gustaf V of Sweden, 89, arrived on the French Riviera all-of-a-piece, pooh-poohed rumors that he had died en route from Stockholm, declared: "I have never been so fit. Despite [my doctor] I shall watch all the tennis tournaments. . . ."

* To these antics, the New York Post's Saloon Editor Earl Wilson reacted thus: "Jim was cordial and I've nothing personal against him--he just made me sick, that's all."

*The high-toned Parisian auctioneer refused, under the prevailing code of professional ethics, to reveal names of the hair-traders.

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