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

For the first time since losing his appendix and rebellious gall bladder (TIME, June 28), resilient Harry Truman left his bed for the length of a lunch in a Kansas City hospital, drew himself up to a table and with gusto devoured a square meal. Near by lay a get-well-quick wire from Washington, signed by two White House visitors, old British friends of Truman's: Winston and Anthony. While his obituaries were being filed away for another day, Truman was finding out that even some of his old enemies seemed happy about his recovery: the Chicago Tribune, which barked at the White House all the time Truman lived there, now said: "There are a lot of things wrong with Harry Truman, but there always was more candor, less hypocrisy, and more natural man in his words and behavior than most politicians would dare display."

At an international film festival in Berlin, all proceedings stopped as three of the world's most sightly actresses--Italy's Sofia Loren, Hollywood's Yvonne (The Captain's Paradise) de Carlo, and Rome's Gina (Beat the Devil) Lollobrigida--got together for the photographers.

Surrounded by "enemies" bent on "crucifying" him. Crooner Dick Haymes, fighting to escape being bounced back to his native Argentina, finally suggested the name of one of his persecutors. The accused: U.S. Attorney General Herbert Brownell Jr. In Haymes's deportation hearing, one of his lawyers insinuated in a question to a witness that Brownell himself had ordered Haymes arrested while the crooner relaxed off guard, during a supposed 60-day truce with the Government. At week's end, another bit of Haymes's past caught up with him. This time the persecutor was his former wife, Cinemactress Joanne Dru, who could now have Haymes arrested because he forgot to show up at another hearing, where Joanne had planned to charge him with forgetting to help support their three children.

To the roster of hardy booklovers who could never quite untangle its polysyllabic characters distinctly enough to muddle through War and Peace, a distinguished new name was added. The bored nonreader: Author Leo Tolstoy himself. In Chicago, on the eve of her 70th birthday, the great Russian novelist's daughter, Countess Alexandra Tolstoy, confided that her unpredictable father preferred his folk tales and short stories to the eye-straining 687,000 words of his most famous novel. "He never reread War and Peace," said she. "And when he heard us reading it aloud one day, he didn't even recognize it."

The Philippines' President Ramon Magsaysay, ordinarily a study in perpetual motion as he scurries about the 7,100 islands of his republic, was ordered to come to a dead stop by his doctor after Magsaysay had worked himself into a feverish cold. But after holing up for a single day in a friend's home, Magsaysay suddenly popped out of seclusion and galloped off in all directions again.

An oldtime cowboy movie star decided that since television had made him famous all over again, he might as well cash in. His ad in Hollywood's Daily Variety trade sheet: "One of America's greatest Western heroes. Hoot Gibson , star of more than 350 feature motion pictures. Guest star on television and radio from coast to coast. Now available . . ."

The very day she was due to take off for a month's junket through Russia, by sufferance of the Soviet government, Eleanor Roosevelt abruptly called off her expedition. Said she: "It would have been impossible for me to do an adequate reporting job . . . without the assistance of a trained magazine journalist or of a man who could speak and read the Russian language." Without stomach for "being at the complete mercy of [a Soviet] interpreter," Mrs. Roosevelt added: "I feel that the Soviet officials, in not granting a visa for a reporter to accompany me, are trying to force me to go to Russia on their terms and are . . . treating me the same way they tried to treat our Government and our allies at Geneva."

In Hollywood, the silent screen's original vamp, heavy-lidded Cinemactress Theda (A Fool There Was) Bara, 64, was whisked off to a hospital for a rush appendectomy.

In London, Princess Margaret, glittering in a diamond necklace and tiara, beamed warmly at the cheering crowd as her coach rolled up to Buckingham Palace, where Britain's royalty wined and dined Sweden's King Gustav VI and Queen Louise, who were making the first state visit of Swedish monarchs to England in 46 years. On her white tulle gown Margaret wore a miniature portrait of another handsome lady, her sister Queen Elizabeth II.

With a competitor's critical eye, Auto Magnate Henry Ford II looked over some Russian cars on display at an industrial fair in Copenhagen. "As far as I can see, these cars are not very good," said he. "They are obviously about the same type of cars we made some 20 years ago."

Smarting under the adamant refusal of Chicago's city building commissioner to give her a liquor license for her highbrow 1020 Art Center (TIME, May 24), Mrs. Ellen Borden Stevenson, ex-wife of Adlai Stevenson, resigned as president of the Modern Poetry Association. But she still planned to toss a few favors and dollars toward Poetry magazine, the flat-broke association's outlet for its members' rhymes, and to make her old family mansion a shrine for longhaired folks. Ever since her Gold Coast neighbors began objecting to the club's intrusion on their quiet life, Ellen Stevenson has been objecting to their cultural lag. By last week, she was on the defensive. Said she: "I now have two lawyers and a business manager helping me keep out of trouble."

Egypt's pudgy ex-King Farouk, never a man to conceal his liking for girls, was busy beating down one of the most start ling rumors about himself to arise since his dethronement and divorce. The hot word: he plans on marrying his current traveling companion, a voluptuous Nea politan named Irma Capece Minutolo, 20, whose right to be called a marchioness was recently disputed when two Italian newsmen declared that her parents were a chauffeur and a janitor's daughter. At the newsmen's trial for slander, Irma's father had indignantly complained: "To doubt my daughter's aristocratic descent is to slander the father of the fiancee of Farouk, whose wedding is imminent." At week's end, however, Irma herself hastened to restore Farouk to full bachelor status. "I prefer not to marry," sighed she. "Farouk is sensible and tender, but marriage is the tomb of love."

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