To his wife of two seasons mighty-eared Cineman Clark Sable has lately been "Pappy," and his name for blonde, scatter-whimmed Carole Lombard has become "Ma." Aware also that their appearance at Sam Goldwyn's superspecial, star-stacked Greek War Benefit was characterized by the seemliest reticence, Hollywood magi took counsel among the stars, forecast that another Gable would shortly be added to their house.

Every year about this time, for merit, for publicity, and for fun, people get awards. Last week the following awards made news: In New Hampshire, Colby Junior College elected Wendell L. Willkie honorary king and Katharine Hepburn queen of its Winter Carnival. Marking the Golden Jubilee of his U. S. concert debut, 7,000 musicians, orchestras, schools and clubs throughout the country tuned strings and cleared throats for a week of programs in National Testimonial to hoary Ignace Jan Paderewski. For the New York Newspaper Women's Club, Mrs. Franklin Roosevelt awarded $100 each to the Herald Tribune's Tania Long (for reports of London bombing) and the Sun's Kay Thomas (for a fashion description of opening night at the Metropolitan Opera), as 1940's best newshens. Because he delivered "two notable decisions freeing Negroes who had, under torture, confessed to crimes," the name of Supreme Court Justice Hugo L. Black, onetime Klansman, was placed on the Honor Roll of Race Relations for 1940. (So was Jack Benny's, because he gave his Negro co-comedian "Rochester" roles not humiliating to the Negro race.) Self-made, sloganeering Henry T. Ewald, president of Detroit's great Campbell-Ewald agency, got 1940"s gold medal for a distinguished career in advertising. For his work with sex hormones and vitamin K (which clots blood, stops hemorrhages), Biochemist Edward A. Doisy of St. Louis University's Medical School won the Willard Gibbs Medal for 1941. The Chicago Symphony Orchestral Association gave $500 to Carl Eppert, winner of its contest for U. S. composers, whose Two Symphonic Impressions set out to illustrate in music the role of vitamins in the fight against disease. But the most celebrated U. S. cultural awards of the year had not yet been handed out. Busting with pride, Hollywood announced that Oscars would be distributed this Saturday, with Franklin Delano Roosevelt as speaker of the evening.

Presiding at a fashion show in the great style capital of Los Angeles, cherubic, curly-headed Mayor Fletcher Bowron grabbed one of the snakier hats, mounted it on the magisterial noggin, looked pleasant for the cameraman (see cut).

To an Oxford audience, Great Britain's Sir Nevile (Failure of a Mission) Henderson offered his ranking of World War II's Nazi leadership and named the order in which he would erase them. Said the onetime appeasement-minded former Ambassador to Germany, who was in at the death of Czecho-Slovakia: "If I were given a gun and told to take two shots, I would shoot Himmler [Gestapo Chief], then Ribbentrop [Foreign Minister], and brain Hitler with the butt of the rifle."

Wearing a Lily Dache war bonnet that must have reminded her of her native Australia, Metropolitan Soprano Marjorie Lawrence paid a visit to New York City's Mayor Fiorello H. LaGuardia, and not only sold him tickets for her concert in aid of London air-raid victims, but taught the Mayor--who profiled like a Shakespearian actor in an Anzac campaign hat--how to pitch a boomerang.

In Manhattan, Lowell Thomas got a letter--postmarked Halle, Germany--from his friend briny old Count Felix von Luckner, last month reported commanding a World War II raider in the Pacific (TIME, Jan. 13). "My yacht Sea Devil is berthed in Stettin waiting for new adventures," reported World War I's most famed raider. "I spend most of the time . . . hunting in the great forests of the Harz Mountains."

Chief surgeon in Costa Rica's biggest hospital until he became President of the country, Dr. Rafael Angel Calderon Guardia has been keeping his hand in since with an operation now and then. Last week, when his Belgian wife, Yvonne, was taken suddenly ill, Dr. Calderon brought off a successful appendectomy.

In Paris, handsome, burly Michel Detroyat, ace French stunt pilot and onetime Thompson speed trophy winner, bought up 50 hansom cabs, rapidly made himself rich.

In Minneapolis for a lecture, Gene Tunney sat down in a restaurant. Coming over from a nearby table, a man addressed him: "My friends insist that you are Gene Tunney, but I offered to bet them they were wrong. What about it?" "You are right," replied Tunney. "I knew I was," said the man. "But even if you were Tunney, I'd tell you this--I think Dempsey could beat Tunney the best day Tunney ever saw." "I agree with you," said Tunney, with all the dignity of a brand-new lieutenant-commander of the U. S. Navy. The man withdrew satisfied, but one of his friends came over "You are Tunney, aren't you?" he asked. "Yes," said Gene amiably, "but don't tell your friend."

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