"Names make news." Last week these names made this news:

At Oyster Bay, L. I., Col. Theodore Roosevelt, 48, confirmed the announcement he would join the publishing firm of Doubleday, Doran & Co., explained he was now satisfied to lead a quiet life. Said he: "I am a grandfather now, and it is time I settled down. . . . The publishing business is a form of teaching, after all."

"Society itself appears to be dissolving," began a letter to William Candler, Coca Cola heir and proprietor of Atlanta's Hotel Biltmore. What Society needed, it went on, was a "directive class.'' Would Mr. Candler be the first to buy a title in the Nobility of the United States? Prices: Duke, $1,000,000; Marquis, $700,000; Count, $500,000; Baron, $200,000. To become a nobleman, Mr. Candler must choose his title, dispatch a check within 18 hours to one J. P. Reinach of Washington, D. C.

Citizen Candler dispatched the letter to postal authorities, mused: "I wonder if I could be the Duke de Biltmore and the Count de Coca Cola at the same time."

Two days before his wife sued him for divorce last spring, John Barrymore sailed on a Caribbean cruise with Elaine Barrie, a 19-year-old "protegee"' who had changed her name from Jacobs to sound more like Barrymore. Later friends reported that he bought her a diamond ring, shopped with her for a bedroom set. Last week Actor Barrymore was still being sued for divorce when he stamped out of the Jacobs' Manhattan apartment, went into hiding. Said apartment clerks: "He was awful mad." Said Protegee Barrie's lawyer: "Mr. & Mrs. Jacobs feel a deep sympathy for Mr. Barrymore. . . . The glamorous episode is ended."

Bought by the U. S. Biological Survey for a wildfowl refuge were 40,000 acres at the Mississippi's mouth, onetime hunting preserve of the late Joseph Leiter. There the Chicago wheat speculator's yacht Emmie sank, there his remaining eye was injured in a duckblind, there his Son Joseph Jr. was killed in a hunting accident and there he caught the cold which went into pneumonia and ended his life in 1932.

Near Downington, Pa., in the Indian Run farmhouse of Henry Huddleston Rogers III, grandson of one of the founders of Standard Oil, servants heard a shot one evening, ran upstairs to Mr. Rogers' bedroom. Lying on the floor with a bullet hole in her temple, a pearl-handled revolver at her feet, was Evelyn Hoey, honey-blonde torchsinger (Fifty Million Frenchmen). When police arrived they found Actress Hoey dead, Host Rogers stumbling drunkenly about the front lawn muttering about his "sweetheart." Told that Rogers & Hoey had spent the day in alcoholic bickering, police clapped Host Rogers and a male house guest in jail. Day later, believing the death suicide, they released both on bail.

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