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

In Los Angeles, Actor George Reeves, better known to millions of televiewing kiddies as Superman ("Faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive, able to leap tall buildings at a single bound! Look! Up in the sky! It's a bird, it's a plane, it's Superman!!"), slapped a half-million-dollar suit on the O'Sullivan Building Materials Co. Reason : Superman Reeves, immovably safety-belted in his sports car, was irresistibly moved by an O'Sullivan truck last March, now claims he banged up his left side and arm so badly that his indestructibility was impaired.

White House Aide Howard Pyle, still smarting from the pummeling he drew from the A.F.L.-C.I.O. for proclaiming that "the right to suffer is one of the joys of a free economy" (TIME, June 4), lost control of his tongue again. Speaking to some Republican ladies in Salisbury, Md., Pyle gravely assessed the G.O.P.'s outlook for November's elections: "The campaign will be no Cakewalk for our congressional and senatorial candidates, even with our ticket being led by such a popular and great leader, Franklin D. --." Silent for a moment, the ladies shrieked their amusement. Unblinking, Orator Pyle corrected himself: "Forgive me. I mean by Dwight D. Eisenhower!"

The Soviet Union's plumpish (37-25-38) Cinemactress Irina (Othello) Skobtseva disclosed that feminine curves do not jibe with the serpentine Soviet party line. Said Irina: "We've never heard of sex appeal in Russia. It doesn't count and has nothing to do with art." Distending her ample bosom, she added: "In the Soviet Union, we do not pose in bathing costumes."

Ex-showgirl Peggy Upton Archer Hopkins Joyce Morner Easton, onetime Virginia belle, has made a career of collecting diamonds and indulgent husbands. Caught sailing for Europe last week with a middle-aged chap, altar-prone Peggy, first married in 1912 and still on the sunny side of 70, confessed that her companion is No. 6 and that for the past three years she has been Mrs. Andrew C. Meyer. Manhattan Banker Meyer, a bachelor until Peggy landed him, smiled fearlessly while his wife did most of the talking.

Will Cinemactress Marilyn Monroe

(TIME, May 14) marry Pulitzer Prize-winning Playwright Arthur (A View from the Bridge) Miller, 40, now in Reno getting a divorce? The nation waited breathlessly for an answer. A Reno report depicted Miller in a "champagne glow," sighing "darling" over the phone to Hollywood, but unwilling to dance on the ceiling until "after I'm free." At week's end Marilyn, yawning cryptically, sashayed off an early morning plane and limousined into Manhattan. Why? "Doctor's orders. I'm suffering from fatigue." What about Arthur? "Good friends." How does it feel to be 30, which Marilyn turned last week? "Kinsey says a woman doesn't get started until she's 30. That's good news."

Graduating with honors from Manhattan's Browning School, handsome Arthur MacArthur, 18, got a firm military handshake from his rifle-spined father, General of the Army Douglas MacArthur, a doting smile from mother, Jean Faircloth MacArthur. Latest in line of the soldiering family that has led U.S. troops in five wars, Arthur will not follow paternal footprints to West Point. He will take up studies at Columbia University this fall, will probably join an R.O.T.C. unit.

Scampering aboard a plane in Los Angeles, impulsive Judy Spreckels, 24, ex-wife of Sugar Daddy Adolph B. Spreckels Jr., was soon in Memphis and the offices of the daily Press-Scimitar. She had learned that a photograph, made last month in Las Vegas, showing her with dreamboat Groaner Elvis ("Hi luh-huh-huh-huv-huv yew-hew") Presley, 21, had appeared in the newspaper, and she had hopped to Tennessee to buy some copies of that edition. Was she in luh-huh-huh-huv with Presley (TIME, May 14)? "Oh, no, he's too young," cooed Judy.

After outdistancing his entourages in a fortnight's dashing about Italy, tireless Tourist Harry S. (for Swinomish) Truman raced on to Austria, where he was soon ensconced in the third row of a Salzburg concert hall. As Music Lover Truman watched approvingly, Conductor Bernhard Paumgartner struck up the band, then quickly stopped the music while guards kicked out a movie cameraman who had ignored a signal to go away from Truman territory. At a dinner that followed, the former President, never averse to giving hell even to the press when it nettles him, outspokenly applauded the maestro's action: "Many times in my own life I have wished that I could have handled the press photographers as well!" Unfortunately, Truman's interpreter omitted the word "photographers." Next day Austria's press, keener on its dignity than many a pencil-clutching U.S. newsman who used to tangle with Harry, took umbrage. Growled a correspondent for Vienna's Neuer Kurier: "It [was] very unsuitable for Mr. Truman to insult the press of this country while a guest at an official reception."

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