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

Speaking at a medical soiree honoring him in Buffalo, New Orleans' famed Surgeon Alton Ochsner finally went all-out in his six-year battle against smoking, as the primary cause of lung cancer. Tobacco-shunning Dr. Ochsner's No. 1 shocker, raising a prospect of future U.S. smoke-easies: legal prohibition of smoking may become necessary if the incidence of lung cancer continues to increase at its present alarming rate.

As schmalz Violinist George Liberace, inseparable brother of schmalz Pianist Wladzui Valentino Liberace, strolled through the Chicago night, two thugs pulled up alongside in a maroon convertible, hopped out and accosted him. One growled: "Give us everything you have!" George politely declined, was slugged with a pistol, soon roused from a fog to tot up his losses: $50 in cash, a $1,500 onyx and diamond ring, a $25,000 fiddle (the violin was located, along with two prime suspects, at week's end by the FBI).

After a published report said that it was so, New York Timesman Clifton Daniel, 44, confirmed it: Margaret Truman Daniel, 33, his bride of ten months, will become a mother "about July" and she feels "fine."

When a touring U.S. rodeo troupe moseyed unwhooping into Manila's own White House, Malacanan Palace, pretty Teresita Magsaysay, 22, eldest daughter of the Philippines' President Ramon Magsaysay, borrowed a ten-gallon topper, looked set to ride, tall in the saddle, into the Golden West.

In his World War II diaries, converted into a book titled The Turn of the Tide and published this week in Britain, Field Marshal Viscount Alanbrooke, Britain's top wartime strategist, bluntly assesses many of his military contemporaries, including the three U.S. generals leading the conflict. Alanbrooke's impressions of Soldier Dwight Eisenhower: "He learned a lot during the war, but strategy, tactics and command were never his strong points." Ike was a great overall coordinator, but "perhaps his greatest asset was a greater share of luck than most of us receive in life." Of George Catlett Marshall: "A big man and a very great gentleman," who did not "impress me by the ability of his brain." Of Douglas MacArthur: "The greatest general of the last war [with] a far greater strategic grasp than Marshall."

Britain's economizing Earl of Harewood, 34, eleventh in succession to the throne, flinched on examining his taxes and living expenses, decided to auction off a goodly lot of his family silverware next month. Biggest prize to go on the block: a toilet service featuring Chinese figures, once the pride of King Charles II, valued at "several thousand pounds."

On a quiet round-the-world tour, sultry Singer Eartha (I Want to Be Evil) Kitt, in global pursuit of "truth, fulfillment and knowledge," missed a luncheon date with India's intrigued Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru, had dinner with him next day. Indian newshounds were bowled over by Eartha, hailed her as the "most exciting woman in the world," said that she has "a magnum of magnetism," gushed over her voice (though she did not sing) as "a confection of nostalgia, velvet, pretyphoon tension and bee stings." After the staid Times of India front-paged Eartha, likening her to a secret weapon of U.S. foreign policy but wondering why she was tripping through Teheran instead of dining with Nehru, Wanderer Kitt flashed word from the Taj Mahal: "Newspapers have accused me of being a spy to have accomplished all I have--funny?" Then she moved on to continue her quest with Burma's urbane Premier U Nu.

Britain's youngest (25) lion of letters, Colin (The Outsider) Wilson, favored the New York Times Book Review with a definition of what makes literature sing. Roared lank-maned Outsider Wilson: "Great writing is a combination of the microscopic and the telescopic. Second-rate writing is all telescope--all 'birdseye view'--like the poetry of a bad poetess, full of sweeping generalizations and abstraction like Man, Life, the World, etc. Third-rate writing is all microscope--all examination of the minutiae of everyday life--and most work produced in England and America in the past thirty years falls into this category." Future third-rate U.S. writers, unless they learn the art of self-analysis, will only provide "the usual microscopic social documentation, with its debts to Dos Passes, Faulkner (see EDUCATION), Tennessee Williams and Arthur Miller."

Without trumpet fanfares, but ceremoniously all the same, Monaco's underpopulated prison loosed a young Frenchman convicted of stealing a car. Reason: Prince Rainier III had declared a general amnesty for all prisoners sent up on minor raps prior to the birth of Princess Caroline (TIME, Feb. 4). Then, in another splurge of celebration, Rainier set his signature to a state document forgiving all of Monaco's current traffic offenders.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.