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

A newswolf in house guest's clothing, Britain's deep pink Cedric Belfrage, deported from the U.S. (TIME, May 25, 1953) but still editor of the fellow-traveling U.S. weekly National Guardian, recently visited the Swiss home of another exile from the U.S., veteran (66) Cine-comedian Charlie Chaplin, an ex-resident of Hollywood since 1952. The two Britons chatted candidly and parted amicably. Last week, however, Belfrage, without leave from Leftist Chaplin, tattled on Charlie in the Guardian. According to Belfrage, Chaplin now detests America, his homeland for some 40 years. Chaplin was quoted as saying: "I no longer have any use for America at all. I wouldn't go back there if Jesus Christ was President!"

A week after her younger sister Nina ("Honey Bear") Warren, 22, eloped with a Los Angeles obstetrician (TIME, Nov. 14), blonde-banged Librarian Dorothy Warren, 24, second daughter of Chief Justice Earl Warren, got set to bring one more medicine man into the family. Her fiance: New Jersey-born Carmine D. Clemente, Ph.D., 27, assistant professor of anatomy in the medical school at the University of California at Los Angeles.

Minus the monocle and orchid boutonniere he used to affect even while hunting, semi-retired Edwardian-style Playboy Nubar Gulbenkian,* fiftyish, son of the greatest wheeler-dealer of them all, the late billionaire Five-Percenter Calouste Gulbenkian, showed up in Britain, his old playground (he now lives in Portugal), sipped a spot of liquid warmth before riding off to a hunt in Buckinghamshire.

Convalescing from writer's cramp after a marathon of autographing some 4,000 copies of the first volume of his memoirs in Kansas City, Harry S. Truman visited Mississippi's Gulf Coast. Asked if the second volume of his reminiscences, to be published next February, will stir up any fuss, jaunty Author Truman grinned: "I might have to go live in Timbuktu!"

To liven up the opening of a mental health exhibit in London, Britain's waggish Minister of Labor, Sir Walter Monckton, tried on a brain-wave recording device for size, came out looking as if he were a fugitive from a Martian barbershop.

Although left-wing Artist Rockwell Kent, 72, long ago testified under oath that he has never been a Communist, he is not willing to swear so for the State Department. Reason: Kent claims that repetition of his earlier denial is "irrelevant" to getting a passport. Result: a passport has thrice been denied to Artist Kent since 1950. Last week, Kent admitted the paradox of his position: "I have spent so much money on lawyers in my fight to get a passport that when I eventually do receive it, I'll have to recover financially so I'll have money to travel."

Packing a dictator-size revolver in a belly-gun holster, Nicaragua's slang-slinging Despot Anastasio Somoza struck a benign pose as he proudly surveyed one of his pet projects, Port Somoza, now abuilding on Nicaragua's sultry Pacific coast.

Somoza is fond of all sorts of artillery, but especially so these days, since he recently announced (for the umpteenth time) that he is the target of an assassination plot engineered by his old neighbor and enemy, Costa Rica's peppery President Jose Figueres.

All but turned out to pasture by a recent spate of rumors, well-preserved (51) Crooner-Cinemactor Bing (The Country Girl) Crosby started work on a filmed TV show in Hollywood, set questioners straight on the superannuation chatter: "Let's just say that I'm not going to retire quite as much as Winston Churchill, but more than Betty Hutton."*

After a prosaic civil ceremony in the city hall of Versailles, pale, black-browed Five-and-Dime Heiress Barbara Hutton Mdivani Haugwitz-Reventlow Grant Troubetskoy Rubirosa, 43 this week, ex-countess, twice an ex-princess, motored back to her rose-festooned Ritz Hotel suite in Paris with her sixth groom. Having demoted herself to a baroness, Barbara beamed nonetheless at her attentive husband, once Nazi Germany's top tennis ace, Baron Gottfried von Cramm, 46. He had met Barbara about 18 years before in Cairo. Amidst toasts at the Ritz, the baron recalled: "We liked each other very much right away, but we decided to wait a few years before getting married." Chimed in the baroness: "I ought to have married him then." After several more stirrup cups, the reporters departed with the baron on their heels. He headed for the Ritz bar. Wheezy with bronchitis, the baroness retired to her bedchamber.

*At Britain's elite Pytchley Hunt, a horsy chap once superciliously told Gulbenkian that he had never before seen an orchid worn in the field. Gulbenkian's amiable squelch: "My dear sir, I expect this is the first time you have seen an Armenian out with the Pytchley!" *Bugle-voiced Comedienne Hutton "retired" forever a year ago, has since launched two comebacks in TV.

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