Republican unity was the luncheon order of the day at the G.O.P.'s annual Women's Conference in Washington. Gracing the head table, all smiles and good cheer, were Pat Nixon, 45, Happy Rockefeller, 40, Lenore Romney, 58, and Nancy Reagan, 44. After the banquet, though, the girls were on their own, fielding reporters' questions. Pat Nixon was gung-ho for the presidential race. "I have such confidence in him," she said of her husband. Happy Rockefeller was ready to go along too. "Anything Nelson does is all right with me," she sighed. But Nancy Reagan was definitely cool to the idea. "I feel terribly sorry for anybody holding that office," she said. "And especially now."

Four astronauts have left the program for one reason or another, and now perhaps the best explanation of all comes from Brian T. O'Leary, 28, a civilian astronomer who signed on with NASA last August. "I'm afraid flying isn't my cup of tea," concluded O'Leary, who had logged 15 hours of preliminary training in light planes. "I just don't care for it."

No, no, Jack, you're not reading the green right ... the ball's going to drop off that rise, break to the left, and then back again just before it reaches the cup. Rattling off tips as fast as he turns quips, Golf Nut Bob Hope, 64, was doing his level best to impart the game's finer points to a youngster named Jack Nicklaus, 28, his partner in the pro-amateur warmup for Dallas' $100,000 Byron Nelson Classic. Big Jack may have been golf's leading moneywinner (with $188,998.08) last year, but Old Bob has been playing the game --and pretty well, too--for 40 years. So age and experience prevailed. Jack did as he was told and, as Bob stepped back to watch, boldly rapped the ball--right past the hole.

Retiring after 24 years on the job, Ford Vice President and Family Confidant John S. Bugas, 60, recalled the tempestuous days in 1945, when he helped young Henry Ford II wrest control of the company from Harry Bennett, the onetime sailor and prizefighter who had come to hold old Henry Ford, then 81, in virtual thrall. In a tense board meeting, young Ford ordered Bennett to turn his authority over to Bugas, later left the two alone. Bennett then turned on Bugas. "He shrieked at the top of his lungs," Bugas remembers. "He called me every curse word in the book. At the height of the tirade, he tore open a desk drawer, pulled out a .45. My .38 was inside my jacket. I was ready." Before any shots were fired, though, Bennett backed down, left town the same day, and no one at Ford ever saw him again.

Last winter Conductor Zubin Mehta, 32, let loose such an unkind trumpet blast at the musicians of the New York Philharmonic that a meeting ensued with the injured parties, during which Mehta apparently muted the brass. Or so everyone thought until last week when the Philharmonic's management disclosed that Mehta had been asked to "postpone" his guest stint with the New Yorkers next year. In Los Angeles, Mehta confirmed the postponement, and said: "I don't want more headaches. Every time I open my mouth I get into trouble. Let's talk about hockey."

Here's how it works: start with Rube Goldberg, 84 (A), who 60 years ago became one of the country's top cartoonists (B), made his name part of the language with those whimsical inventions (C), helped found the National Cartoonists Society in 1945 (D), the members of which then named its highest award for excellence, "the Reuben," after Goldberg (E), which was then presented to leading cartoonists annually (F), and finally last week was presented to Goldberg himself (G), who retired from cartooning five years ago to begin a new career in sculpting (H). "It's quite an honor," said Rube, "and--well --it just sort of rounds things off" (I).

Readers of Pravda's reports know him well as a bitter critic of U.S. involvement in Viet Nam. And soon they'll get the word from Dr. Benjamin Spock, 65, on a different subject--namely Baby and Child Care. The handbook that made the good doctor a fortune (20 million copies to date) is being published in Russian--which may bring more nyets than da, da, das once Russian mothers get a load of what he says. Spock advises light garments and laying babies on their stomachs, but Russian mothers swaddle infants tightly and set them on their backs; he urges early feeding of solids, Russian gurglers stick to milk and cereal; he advises never force a child to walk, while Russian parents want their offspring up and at 'em as soon as possible.

Executors of the estate of the late Edna Ferber announced that the novelist left a fortune of more than $2,000,000, willed to her sister, two nieces, her maid, and to several charities.

A distinguished Marine career is coming to an end. At 5 ft. 4 3/4 in. and 134 lbs., Lieut. General Victor H. Krulak, 55, hardly seems the sort to be nicknamed "the Brute." But that's the handle; it's fond and it fits. Strong and scrappy as a wire-haired terrier, Krulak was commissioned in 1934, won a Navy Cross (second only to the Congressional Medal of Honor) in the Solomon Islands in 1943, became one of the youngest generals in Marine history at the age of 43 in 1956, and helped to map U.S. strategy in Viet Nam. He was high on the list of possibilities for Marine commandant, but when that job went to General Leonard F. Chapman last December, Krulak decided to call it a career and put in for retirement.

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