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

Up to a trim, uniformed figure in Kansas City's Union Station bustled a matronly commuter, bearing a pocketbook. "I just found this, conductor," explained she, thrusting the pocketbook into the impeccably gloved hands of Rear Admiral Richard Evelyn Byrd.

Into the patio of Palm Beach's No. 1 estate for the No. 1 party of the winter thronged some 400 guests to sip champagne, eat strawberry ice, listen as Banker Edward Townsend Stotesbury celebrated his 87th birthday by rattling a snare drum as he did in the Civil War. A hale, hearty, dapper little man, Host Stotesbury, Philadelphia's richest tycoon, senior partner in J. P. Morgan & Co., was also persuaded to sing his favorite song. The Old Family Toothbrush that Hangs in the Sink.*

Shot with a rifle by his mother during a Thanksgiving drinking bout last autumn (TIME, Dec. 9), Jesse Lauriston Livermore Jr., 16, contracted pneumonia in his wounded lung, underwent two operations, hovered for a month on Death's verge, then slowly began to recover in a Santa Barbara hospital. Meanwhile his mother, Mrs. Dorothea Livermore Long-cope, was charged with assault with intent to murder, released pending, appearance in court next week. His father, famed stock-trader, flew to Santa Barbara with his third wife, secured legal custody of his son. Last week Son Jesse walked out of the hospital, thin but well, chose to return to his mother.

At Brown University in the space of a week Charles Evans Hughes 3rd, grandson of the Chief Justice, was elected to Phi Beta Kappa, an honor won at Brown by his father and grandfather before him; appointed managing editor of the Brown Daily Herald, a job once held by his father; made a member of the Junior Prom Committee, a position not previously held by either his father or grandfather. Tall, quiet Grandson Hughes also belongs to three honorary societies, debates, won his class numerals in soccer, played last year on a championship fraternity baseball team.

Up on the docket of the French Court of Appeals came the case of U. S. Dancer Joan Warner, "Poetess of Naked Rhythm," who was found guilty of "publicly outraging modesty" by dancing in a respectable Paris restaurant in blue powder and a gossamer cache-sexe (TIME, July 29 et ante). The court reaffirmed Poetess Warner's fine of 50 francs ($3.30), lowered the restaurant owner's fine from 250 to 50 francs. Carefully the judges pointed out that the ruling does not prevent Miss Warner from practicing her art in theatres and music halls.

*Chorus (to the tune of The Old Oaken Bucket): The old family toothbrush, The old family toothbrush, The old family toothbrush That hangs in the sink. First it was father's, Then it was mother's, Then it was sister's; Now it is mine.

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