People, Aug. 16, 1937

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

When a London gossip writer mentioned Columnist Dorothy Thompson for the Presidency, newshawks scurried to get her reaction. "Ridiculous," she pooh-poohed. "I'm very much for it," declared Husband Sinclair Lewis, "then I can syndicate a column called 'My Day'!"

Ill lay kinky-bearded, 64-year-old Thorvald Stauning, Premier of Denmark, after breaking a leg. The New York Times said he tripped over a "grassy knoll" near Loekken while he was showing friends a short cut across sand dunes to the main road from his seaside bungalow. The Associated Press said he fell aboard the yacht Nordsee. The United Press said he was holidaying at his bungalow atop a dune, got out of bed for a stroll in his nightshirt, stumbled in the dark.

Quarantined in an isolation nursery at Callander, Ont. lay Emilie Dionne, third largest (31¾ lb.) of the famed quintuplets. Dr. Allan Roy Dafoe said the ailment was a respiratory infection, inexplicably " obtained from outside sources." Five days later her four sisters were caught in the rain and all developed colds.

Three grandchildren of Supreme Court Justice Louis Dembitz Brandeis—Louis (11), Alice (9), and Frank Gilbert (7) —started on Cape Cod a hectographed newspaper called Chatham Chatter. Price, 1¢. Contents of the first issue: by Alice, a tribute to Amelia Earhart; by Frank, "The Slavery Question and How It Changed the United States"; by Grand-editor Louis, editorials. Excerpts: "The modern child grows up with guns surrounding him. Guns to the right of him, guns to the left of him, guns in front of him, volley and thunder. This is one of the main reasons of wars."

New York Yankee Outfielder Joseph Paul di Maggio rehearsed an hour and a half, then made his film debut in the New York studios of Republic Pictures as a featured player in Manhattan Merry-Go-Round, a musical comedy. After 13 "takes" he finally perfected his three-line scene. Later he returned, completed a four-and-a-half-minute sequence with Henry Armetta.

Weary of his job in the pressroom of the Plimpton Press, Alfred A. Knopf Jr, 19-year-old son of the Manhattan publisher, left Norwood, Mass, with $15 and an ambition to "make his way" in the West. Week later, after his father had aroused the entire U. S., he turned up, penniless and hungry, in a Salt Lake City police station, was promptly packed off home via air. His conclusions: "Truck drivers are the friendliest people of all; they bought me a couple of meals and let me ride practically all the way. And one of them gave me—how do you say it?— four bits—fifty cents—for a shave and haircut. The rest of the people are a bunch of damned snobs."