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

In New Orleans' Municipal Auditorium, as the audience sat listening to Guest Conductor Leopold Stokowski lead the Philharmonic Symphony Orchestra through Manuel de Falla's El Amor Brujo, the unmistakable Dixieland beat of a jazz orchestra scorched through from an adjoining ballroom. Stokowski stabbed the air with his baton, stopped his orchestra and said: "New Orleans is the only city in the world where you can buy one ticket and get two concerts." Then he retired to the wings until the competing orchestra, playing for a pre-Mardi Gras carnival ball, had stopped. Said the jazz-band leader later: "I'm sorry if we inconvenienced Mr. Stokowski. He is probably very sensitive."

Victor de Sabata, chief conductor at Milan's La Scala Opera, appearing in San Francisco as a guest conductor, had interruption troubles, too. Midway through Brahms's Third Symphony, he turned his back on the orchestra, held up his hand to stop the music. On the verge of verbally chastising a murmuring sector of the audience, words failed him, but the murmuring stopped. Later, after a second dose of the silent treatment, the noisemakers got the point. At the end of the concert, Conductor de Sabata bowed to louder-than-ordinary applause.

In Washington, the Air Force announced that Arthur Godfrey, Commander, U.S.N.R., had left television and radio air waves long enough to take a guided tour of the Strategic Air Command operations. His guide: SAC Commander General Curtis LeMay.

In Philadelphia, Rear Admiral Richard E. Byrd, 64, announced that he planned to make another trip to the South Pole (after the Korean war is over) to search for coal and uranium deposits.

Tokyo heard that it could expect a spring visit from Old Soldier Douglas MacArthur, who will stop in Japan on his first inspection tour of Remington Rand's foreign offices.

General James A. Van Fleet, retiring commander of the U.S. Eighth Army, was given a farewell title: honorary degree of Doctor of Laws from the Seoul National University. Among those who gathered to hear Dr. Van Fleet's acceptance speech: the National Assembly of the Republic of Korea.

Henry Agard Wallace, poultry farmer and onetime Vice President of the U.S., was called for jury duty at the Westchester County Courthouse at White Plains, N.Y., only to find himself rejected as a juror two days in a row. On the third try he was found acceptable, and impaneled to help decide a civil damage suit.

In Amarillo, Texas, Princess Cecilia of Prussia, 35, granddaughter of Kaiser Wilhelm, renounced her title, took her U.S.-citizenship oath and became plain Mrs. Clyde Harris, wife of an interior decorator and former Army captain whom she married in Germany in 1949.

The new Under Secretary of State, General Walter Bedell Smith, 57, who first joined the Indiana National Guard in 1910, became a downy-cheeked first sergeant at the age of 18, and grew up into something of a top brass curmudgeon, tried to explain his temperament to a Washington reporter. Said he: "It is possible that some of the less attractive characteristics of my personality were acquired at a very early age as an infantry sergeant."

In Naples, Movie Producer Roberto Rossellini and his actress wife Ingrid Bergman paused long enough in the filming of a new picture to record another milestone in their growing household: the third birthday of son Roberto, who posed for his three-candle blowout while his eight-month-old twin sisters Isotta and Isabella, all bibbed and tuckered and nestled in their proud parents' arms, looked on in big-eyed wonder.

In Hollywood, the Academy of Television Arts & Sciences named its "academy" award winners: Bishop Fulton J. Sheen (most outstanding personality on television) ; Lucille Ball (best comedienne); Jimmy Durante (best comedian); Thomas Mitchell and Helen Hayes (best actor and actress). Among the other winners: Sid Caesar and Imogene Coca (best variety program); Edward R. Murrow (best public-affairs program).

In Paris, the Communist newspaper L'Humanite coined a new term for its spiritual leader: "Marshalissimo Stalin."

His British military training at Sandhurst over, King Hussein, 18-year-old monarch of Jordan, was graduated in the traditional "passing out" parade of the Royal Military Academy. Unlike his classmates, who will now wear the insignia of second lieutenants, the King ("Hussy" to Sandhurst cadets) will revert to his rank of general of the Jordan army.

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