Cuba's ex-Dictator Fulgencio Batista disclosed a recent meeting with a bird of his own feather. Now enjoying uneasy asylum in the Dominican Republic, Batista was strolling along Ciudad Trujillo's seafronting Avenida George Washington, minding his own business, when who should come along, astride a motor scooter, but Argentina's ex-Dictator Juan Peron, also on the lam. According to Batista, they chatted about no counterrevolutions, just the weather and other pleasantries. Observed Batista: "Peron has got a good sense of humor and he was very friendly to me."

Manila announced that Tibet's Dalai Lama, in Indian haven after escaping the Red Chinese invaders of his land, had won this year's Ramon Magsaysay Award for community leadership, a salute for the god-king's role in Tibet's "gallant struggle."

In Paris. New York Herald Tribune Chitchatter Art Buchwald bumped into matriarchal Cosmetician Helena Rubinstein, got the lowdown on Soviet ladies who attended the recent U.S. exhibition in Moscow, where Polish-born Mme. Rubinstein, eightyish, was plugging her beauty aids. Said she: "They said our American models were zombies. Russian women take pride in being heavy and muscular. Perhaps the men like them that way?"

Almost unrecognizable in kaffiyeh and dark glasses, the Aga Khan, 22, customarily a Western-attired fashion plate, sped to the airport in Nice, met a beautiful English visitor, Tracy Pelissier, 19, stepdaughter of famed British Moviemaker Sir Carol (Our Man in Havana) Reed. Then they limousined to the Cannes villa of the Aga's father, Prince Aly Khan, where Tracy will loll in the Riviera sunshine and be subjected to the routine flurry of rumors that she will become her handsome host's begum.

Diving in Austria's Toplitz Lake for counterfeit British currency printed by Nazis in World War II (TIME, Aug. 10), a salvage team came up with a dividend. Their catch: the personal files, diaries and identity cards of Nazi Gestapo Chief Heinrich Himmler, who killed himself (poison) soon after British troops nabbed him in May 1945.

The new copyreader and sometime rewrite man on the Wall Street Journal was having a hard time establishing his identity. "Quit your kidding!" he would be told when answering his phone or calling for information. But he really was Winston Churchill, 18, handsome grandson of Sir Winston himself. Young Journalist Churchill, son of Journalist Randolph Churchill, is spending the summer in Manhattan, working at the Journal for experience and for nothing (his student visa bars him from a paying job), will go to Oxford this fall.

The little Norwegian fishing town of Sogne prepared for the biggest social event of its history. The local girl who made good use of her stay in the U.S., Anne-Marie ("Mia") Rasmussen, 21, and her fiance, Steven Rockefeller, 23, son of New York's Governor, seemed calmer than anyone else about their wedding. But to evade newshounds, they frequently took to the hills, abandoned Steve's telltale motorcycle for a car, fled from a restaurant right after the soup when a photographer surprised them at the table. Young Rockefeller's parents, once the employers of Mia in their Manhattan town house, were expected to arrive in Sogne this week in good time to help plan the nuptials, reception and banquet.

Glamorous Grandma Marlene Dietrich winged into Buenos Aires on the second leg of her first Latin American tour. At a cozy press conference (some 300 newshounds, fake journalists and curiosity seekers) Marlene proved as entertaining as ever. Q. How do you maintain your youth? A. Work. Q. What do you do when you don't work? A. (Marlene smiled and stroked the head of her piano accompanist, Friedman Bachrach, 30, seated by her.) Q. So that's it? A. (Still smiling, she nodded.) Q. What else do you do besides sing and act? A. Counsel the lovelorn. Q. Why do you specialize so much in love? A. Because it is the only important thing. Q. Do you plan to write your memoirs? A. No, I am not an exhibitionist. Q. What do you fear most? A. Death.

After 3 1/2 years and nearly 1,500 performances of My Fair Lady in Manhattan and London, Musicomedienne Julie Andrews stepped out of the Cinderella role of Eliza Doolittle for the last time in London's Drury Lane Theater. Confessed Julie: "I never really got the part under control. I got very close to it sometimes."

A plastic surgeon in Tokyo caddishly blabbed that the bosom of the new Miss Universe, Japan's Akiko Kojima, is bolstered with interior plastics, declared that he had given shapely (37-23-38) Akiko injections just before she went to California. The doctor's statement drew a blushing denial from Akiko, got a stormy rise out of her mother. "Terrible! Terrible!" cried Mrs. Hisako Kojima. "How could she have had an operation? She's the same size as last year!"

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