"Names make news." Last week the following names made the following news:

The Smithsonian Institution made known it was fighting mediums, fortunetellers, astrologers. Arthur Brisbane, Hearst colyumnist, reported: "At a dinner party recently, entertained by a clairvoyant, Walter Chrysler, automobile man, heard these predictions:

" 'The Kaiser will die on August 3.

" 'Our most distinguished aviator (meaning Lindbergh), will meet with an accident in September--serious, but not fatal.

" 'In October Calvin Coolidge will announce his intention to run for the Presidency in 1932.

" 'In November President Hoover will appear before Congress to request a change in the Prohibition law.' "

Further reported Arthur Brisbane:

"Walter Chrysler remarked, 'If he will answer a question about what is going to happen in Wall Street, I'll give him enough to buy himself a couple of diamond mines.' "

Mrs. Calvin Coolidge bobbed her hair.

The Black Sea was black and stormy around the royal palace at Exinograd, Bulgaria, when Tsar Boris looked out a seaward window. He saw six people in a tiny boat; they were fighting a losing fight with mighty waves. King Boris called a mechanic, jumped into his own motorboat, and "at great personal risk" sped out, towed the six to safety.

Henri Cochet, of France, world's ablest tennis amateur, confided to friends that he was going to turn professional. They expected him to sign a contract (like William Tatem Tilden II, Vincent Richards, Karel Kozeluh) with fat Jack Curley, who is now scouting Europe for wrestling talent.

Dignitaries meeting Vaclav Pallier, Czechoslovakian Minister to Hungary, at the railway station in Budapest, were astonished to see him descend from the train clad only in pajamas. He explained that his trousers had been stolen overnight; he had no others with him. The trousers were found later in a cornfield. The Minister's pocketbook was not in them.

All summer Thomas Alva Edison had been ailing at his Llewellyn Park home and laboratory near West Orange, N. J. Fortnight ago the heat wave forced him to abandon his rubber-from-goldenrod experiments (TIME, Dec. 16, 1929) and devote his energies to keeping cool. One hot day last week an automobile was ordered to take him driving. Waiting for it, the 84-year-old inventor suddenly seemed to doze off. He had collapsed. Sons Theodore, Thomas Alva Jr., Charles and Mr. Edison's daughter & son-in-law, Mr. & Mrs. John Eyre Sloan, bustled about excitedly.* Doctors arrived from Morristown, N. J. and Riverdale, N. Y. in a jiffy. Dr. Hubert Shattuck Howe, who has attended Mr. Edison all summer, was playing golf on Long Island. He hired an airplane, flew to Newark, hurried to the bedside. Together the physicians issued a statement revealing that their charge had been suffering from chronic nephritis, diabetes and uremic poisoning. Next day Dr. Howe amplified this: "Mr. Edison has been suffering with ulcers of the stomach for the last 20 years. For the last three years he has restricted his diet to two glasses of milk every two hours, and during the last six weeks to one glass every two hours. . . . I don't think he will ever be out of danger." But Mr. Edison, after a six-hour sleep, flung up his hands, exclaimed: "I feel 105% better!"

*Fourth son, William, hurried up from Wilmington, Del. Daughter Marion Oser of Danbury, Conn. remained there awaiting developments.

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