People: Aug. 4, 1967

His red, blue and orange Rolls-Royce earned the London Daily Express' admiration as "a cross between a psychedelic nightmare and an autumn garden on wheels." But it was a pretty square set of wheels compared to John Lennon's latest vehicle—an 1874 carriage, fundamentally yellow with wild flowers rampant, which was triumphantly drawn up to Lennon's mansion in Weybridge, Surrey, by two white horses in front with two more trotting at the rear. The new Beatlemobile, which cost Lennon about $10,000 to buy and have refurbished, "is really a toy for four-year-old Julian," said John, who is vacationing en famille in Greece with the Ringo Starrs and Paul McCartney. "But I expect my wife and I will play with it as well."

Pert as a field lily, Bobby and Ethel Kennedy's eldest daughter Kathleen went forth to meet the photographers on the occasion of her 16th birthday, wearing a size 8, art-nouveau print shift. Right beside her stood another of the Kennedy birthday girls, wearing an identical, size 8 print shift, with a pair of white-mesh mod stockings thrown in for kicks. "You can say I'm 72," joked Rose Kennedy, "but please don't mention that it came from me." So the Boston Globe printed that she was 72 and didn't say it came from her. What more gracious present could it give her on her 77th birthday?

Off with his family for a weekend in the West Virginia mountains, Labor Secretary Willard Wirtz, 55, paused along the Cacapon River, fell into conversation with Douglas Dolan, a postmaster who owns property there. Suddenly a shout went up that two of Dolan's nieces, Deborah, 12, and Nancy, 21, were being swept downstream by the rain-swollen current. The Secretary stripped to his shorts, plunged into the river, overtook the girls and held them steady in the swirling water until a motorboat could get to them. "I was about to go under for the last time," said Debbie, "and Nancy was as bad off as I was." As he was drying off, Wirtz said simply that he had "repaid a favor." Fourteen years earlier, he explained, his own son Philip, then three, had been rescued from just such a predicament in Lake Erie by a fast-moving doctor named Jonas Salk.

"I have turned my palace into a prison," cock-a-doodled Surrealist Painter Salvador Dali, 63. "I am not allowing myself any kind of distraction. Look at my television set: I have turned it upside down and put a distorting filter in front of it." Could he be working at something? Si, si, nothing less than a vast canvas 15 yards square, "a study of tuna fishing" that will be ready for exhibition in the fall. And when he is not painting, he continued, he keeps busy photographing God. "God invented man and man invented the metric system," Dali explained. "So to get an image of God, all I need is to photograph a perfect man and a precise meter."