Emily, the pet five-foot python that Geraldine Chaplin, 20, used to carry around Europe in a sack, evidently taught her something. On location in Spain, where she is playing the role of Tonia, the demure, bourgeois wife of Dr. Zhivago, the great Charlie's daughter suddenly assumed a herpetic pose. But as Geraldine said once, "For a young dancer like myself, what a treat it is to watch a snake move. Their suppleness and their elegance are incomparable."

It was, she said, a sort of "bargain" between her and John F. Kennedy. Luella Hennessey had served the Kennedy family as a private nurse for some 25 years, attended at the births of 23 of their children, helped care for Patriarch Joseph Kennedy early in his long illness. In 1963 the President persuaded her to give up full-time nursing and go to college to study public health so that she could work with retarded children, a special concern of the Kennedy family. She agreed, and last week she received her bachelor of science degree at Boston College. Senator Teddy Kennedy, whom she helped nurse back to health after his plane crash last summer, was on hand to give her a hug and a kiss. "The President said he would come to my graduation if I got my degree," she said. "I guess he'll know I'm getting it."

There he stood, that moaning old Yank, Elvis Presley, 30, firmly in the No. 1 spot on London's Hit Parade with what the trade calls a ."religiose"--Crying in the Chapel. And were the Beatles crying any more than usual down there in 24th place with Ticket to Ride? No, no, no. For when the Queen's annual birthday honors list came out, there they were, among the 1,800 names: Ringo Starr, 24, John Lennon, 24, Paul McCartney, 22, and George Harrison, 22, all appointed members of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire, thus entitled to put M.B.E. after their names and wear a silver lapel pin inscribed "For God and Empire." Her Majesty doesn't explain why she does these things. But after all, those boys have done a lot for Britain's balance of payments.

A little like introducing chicken soup to matzo balls, perhaps, but on opening night at Jaffa's Alhambra Theater, practically everyone who was anyone in Israel was there: Premier Lev! Eshkol, Foreign Minister Golda Meir and the rest of the nation's official mishpachah. And when the curtain came down on the Hebrew adaptation of Broadway's Fiddler on the Roof, who should rush backstage but the Premier himself. Said Eshkol after toasting the cast: "Nu, nu, it's not exactly Sholom Aleichem, but I have never enjoyed an evening in the theater so much in my life." Israel's most formidable critic, Chaim Gamzu--whose last name is now the idiom for "roast"--naturally complained that the musical "is sunk in cauldrons of schmaltz." So what else did he expect, bubbled Joe Stein, who wrote the Broadway book: "Schmaltz is not exactly a Japanese invention, you know."

Classmates at Radcliffe last year knew her as Chris Bernadotte, and from the looks of things she might have been working her way through school. She helped clean house, waited on table and served time answering dormitory telephones. She even endured the Dantean savageries of Filene's basement on a Saturday morning. Now Sweden's Princess Christina, 21, is back in the U.S. for an official visit--and quickly found herself in the midst of another subterranean jostle. "The consul people thought it would be nice for me to ride the subway like New Yorkers do," said she. So after trudging through the World's Fair, she boarded a local IRT train in the 90DEG heat, pursued by a rather uncourtly mob of reporters and photographers. "It was a crush," gasped Christina upon emerging. "There are more civilized ways of traveling."

"I received your invitation to attend the White House ceremony just three days after I had agreed to speak a few words at a dinner honoring the excellent high school teacher who taught me how to write. I know you will not miss me at your dinner, she might at hers." So Author James Michener begged off Lyndon Johnson's dinner for 120 young Presidential Scholars. He was spending the evening in Swarthmore, Pa., at a retirement dinner for Mrs. Hanna Kirk Mathews, 65, who, according to Michener, must be ultimately responsible for South Pacific, Hawaii, and his latest tome, The Source. Mrs. Mathews heard her sophomore English student from 1923 remark: "In his lifetime a man lives under 15 or 16 Presidents, but a good teacher comes into his life but rarely."

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