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

Into Acting Secretary of War Harry Hines Woodring's Washington office burst a man wearing red shorts, tennis shoes, an Indian war bonnet, a Kansas sunflower, with red paint daubed on his face and bare chest, a long white sack under his arm. Whooping, "Feathers instead of bullets," the visitor dumped 40 pounds of white feathers over Secretary Woodring's desk, scampered out before the Cabinet officer's return. Caught two hours later, still seminude, featherbrained Frank ("Woody") Hockaday, 50, onetime Kansas business man who now considers himself an apostle of peace, was lodged in the Gallinger Municipal Hospital psychopathic ward, where attendants remarked he would remain "for quite some time."

Bystanders at Fort Worth, Tex. were amused to see tough-writing, big-game-hunting Author Ernest Hemingway, on his way by motor to the Pacific coast to fish, carrying a cage containing a mouse.

Publisher William Randolph ("Buy American") Hearst sailed for Europe on the Italian liner Rex. With him he took a party of 16, including his son George, his dachshund Helena. Cinemactress Marion Davies. Boomed Publisher Hearst: "Landon will be overwhelmingly elected, and I'll stake my reputation as a prophet on it."

From Havana, the Pan-American Columbus Society petitioned all the governments of the Western Hemisphere to offer protection in Madrid during the Spanish rebellion to Don Cristobal Colon, Duke of Veragua, direct descendant of Christopher Columbus.

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