Had they been interviewed, some people who figured in last week's news might have related certain of their doings as follows:

William B. Leeds, tin-plate rich-boy, husband of Princess Xenia of Greece: "Milk squirted, glass flew high and wide as my automobile crashed into a milk wagon at Flushing, N.Y., en route from Manhattan to Spratbrae, my Oyster Bay, L. I., home. The hit horse lay on the boulevard, dead. My automobile burst into flames. I leaped out with a shout: 'Never mind about the fire in the car; let's get this man to the hospital. We can buy 20 cars, but we can't buy another Joe [my chauffeur].' . . . Joe and the two in the milk wagon soon recovered from minor injuries. My car burned to the ground."

Jesse Isidor and Herbert Straus, potent brothers, part owners of R.H. Macy & Co. (Manhattan department store): "Last week we went back to the old homestead in Talbotton, Ga., where Grandfather Lazarus Straus, fresh from Bavaria, began to be a U.S. merchant in 1848. His shack is still standing, but the original store had burned down. In the public square, the citizens spread for us a barbecue. As we were munching sandwiches, a withered man came up, shook our hands, said: 'Isidor Straus [our father, one the three sons of Lazarus] was the best Latin student I ever saw.' "

Henry Mauris Robinson, California lawyer-banker: "General Electric Co. last week elected me a director, pursuant to its plan of having each region of the U. S. represented on its board of directors. Thus once more I am associated in vast fiscal enterprise with Owen D. Young, Chairman of General Electric's directors. We, with Charles G. Dawes (Chicago banker, U. S. Vice President), organized the Dawes Plan of German Reparations payments (TIME, Dec. 20); and we were both members of the Second Industrial Conference called by President Wilson in 1919." Gloria Swanson, cinema actress, who married a marquis: "Some people accused me of giving blatant gold-digging advice when I told a New York World reporter the following: 'There are times when clothes are about the best investment that a woman can make. If, instead of bleakly saving for her old age, a working girl puts her surplus into attractive gowns, she stands a chance of making a marriage that will change her whole life. A girl is foolish to be too thrifty with her clothes budget, especially during her prettiest years. . . . Every girl I know who made a good marriage this year was the type who spends thought, cash and attention on clothes. The investments they made on gowns brought them more in money and material comfort--to say nothing of happiness--than the thrifty basement bargain-hunter could hope to lay aside in her whole life.' '

Paul Morand:*

"Omitting Chicago and all the Middle West, I last week completed my second tour of the U. S. Sailing for France from Manhattan, I said: 'I have seen mixed peoples in many parts of the world, and they are never superior types. Your country has shown both its strength and its wisdom by protecting itself from too much infiltration. . . . The trouble with the melting-pot is that the grease comes to the top. . . . When we consider the interval separating Pasteur from the monkey, it seems to me the Negro has traveled a long distance in his short contact with Western civilization. Next year I am going to Africa to study the ancestors of these Western Negroes. ... I confess I have been rather shocked at some things I have seen in your theatres and cinemas. In An American Tragedy and even in What Price Glory there is a literal, physical portrayal of desire which would not for a moment be tolerated in Paris. It is curious in a country once called puritanical.'"

*Who, like his countryman, French Ambassador Paul Claudel (TiME, March 21). combines diplomacy and literature. Having been educated at L'Ecole des Sciences Politiques in Paris, having served as attache at the embassies in London, Rome, Madrid and the Orient, M. Morand quickly turned his energies to fiction and a study of the Negro. He is best known in the U. S. for his book, Open all Night. Thirty-nine, married, high-foreheaded, dark, hv tops the new generation of French and sensuous realists. "M. Claudel," said he, "is the greatest of Catholic poets."