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

When soul-searching Author F. Scott Fitzgerald came to Hollywood in 1937, he left his wife Zelda behind in a North Carolina mental home. He soon became a great and good friend of Gossipist Sheilah Graham, who was then a movieland correspondent for some British newspapers. Hard work and harder drinking helped kill Fitzgerald after their hopeless romance had fitfully endured for more than three years; he died in Sheilah's company in 1940. Sheilah was left with some 150 love letters, a long poem in which Fitzgerald tenderly addressed her as Beloved Infidel --and her bittersweet memories. Tattler Graham is now working on a book about the whole affair. Last week Producer Jerry Wald delicately disclosed that he has bought from Sheilah the screen rights to Beloved Infidel. A rejected title, from another Fitzgerald-to-Graham poem: The Huguenots Were a Bunch of Snots.

After flitting into Britain to plug one of her movies, robustious Jayne Mansfield ran afoul of an unchivalrous lensman, emerged on film as a cow in leopard's clothing. "Whisper it softly," roared London's Sunday Pictorial, "Jayne is putting on weight!" Then the newspaper meowed, under a bell-bottomed distortion of Jayne's stern: "Women may also prefer this angle: it shows so much more of the dress." Jayne did little to help herself by undulating before BBC-TV cameras and solilo quizing: "Oh, that this too, too solid flesh should melt!" Then she fled to Paris, was gratified to be greeted by some 150 news wolves, was gallantly photographed looking as chic as a cheetah. With typical French passion for detail and clarity, Le Figaro then reported that Jayne's bosom measures 103 centimeters v. the mere 63-centimeter diameter of a bicycle tire. Reverting to gallantry, Paris-Presse called her the "Himalaya of sex appeal."

Into London hove Author W. Somerset Maugham, 83, with the announced purpose of purchasing some masculine lingerie. Said Maugham, a French Riviera resident almost year-round: "The British make the best men's underwear in the world. They have to. The weather, you know. It's rather damp here at times." A reporter audaciously asked if the Old Party had any future plans. A bit put out by such cheek, Maugham crustily replied: "Yes. Definitely. To live on."

The oldest man ever to serve in Congress, Rhode Island's peppy Democratic Senator Theodore Francis Green, turned 90, reaffirmed his aim to be re-elected in 1960 (he would be 99 on completion of that term), prepared to hop off this week on a tour of northern NATOland. Globetrotting Bachelor Green also swapped wired congratulations with a younger whippersnapper from Arizona who turned 80 the same day: Democratic Senator Carl Hayden, who has served longer than anyone else in Congress (he entered the House in 1912 as a youngster of 34). At a birthday whoopdedoo in Phoenix, Hayden was overwhelmed with laudatory scrolls bearing some 174,000 signatures of Arizonans, Dwight D. Eisenhower, most of the U.S. Senate and U.S. Cabinet members. With the Senator was his kid sister, "Miss Sally," 77. Staring out mistily over his birthday cake, Hayden made a ten-minute speech praising Arizona, virtually a filibuster for him and probably longer than any remarks by him for 45 years in the Capitol.

After a stopover on its way from Guam to Japan, an Air Force C-47 lumbered off Iwo Jima's big new landing strip, only seconds after take-off lost one engine and stuttered with its other. No. 13 on the plane's passenger manifest: well-Oriented Author James A. (Tales of the South Pacific) Michener, immersed in some island-hopping research for a book on the Strategic Air Command. Unable to regain the strip, the pilot chose to go by the book, ditched the aircraft and immersed Michener in Michener's favorite ocean. Rescued after 90 minutes on a life raft, uninjured Passenger Michener mourned the loss of 1 1/2 year's worth of notes and manuscripts. Half an hour later, wrung out and in borrowed togs, Michener, again the 13th man aboard, was winging north on another C-47. On reaching Japan he allowed: "I sure came the hard way."

The specter of divorce again loomed in the shadow of Buckingham Palace when Australian-born Lieut. Commander Michael Parker, 36, wartime sidekick of Prince Philip and his former private secretary, was sued by his wife on grounds of adultery. Party-loving Mike Parker resigned his palace job last February, a few hours after word leaked of the Parkers' separation.

Naming no names, a Vatican City weekly, Osservatore della Domenica, blasted Italy's Cinemactress Sophia Loren and divorced Moviemaker Carlo Ponti, for their Mexican marriage by proxy last month. Because Ponti's first marriage still exists in the eyes of the church, said the newspaper, the pair are "public sinners," and if they live together in "pseudo-marriage," they are guilty of concubinage and liable to excommunication. Living together in a rented house in West Los Angeles, Sophia and her mate put their love before their religion. Said Actress Loren: "Everything I am today, I owe to Carlo ... the only man I have ever loved and therefore the only man I could ever marry." Said Ponti: "My marriage to Sophia, following a divorce with my former wife's full consent, was the only door open to me to join my life to Sophia's."

Sternly shrugging off a mild stroke that indisposed him last July, Fleet Admiral William F. ("Bull") Halsey, 74, resigned as board chairman of two International Telephone & Telegraph Co. subsidiaries. Far from retreating into invalidism, Halsey laid plans to work full time on his campaign to preserve the aircraft carrier Enterprise, his onetime flagship, as a World War II memorial and museum.

Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer's studio brains --perhaps recalling the spectacular Atlanta premiere for David Selznick's Gone With the Wind in 1939--held a mighty Louisville debut for their new Civil War colossus, Raintree County. It had been 18 years since Selznick and M-G-M last burned down Atlanta (in GWTW), and MGM's repetition of the feat called for what may be the last lavish gala to slacken the movie industry's tightened belt. Among those imported for the festivities: Raintree's Stars Eva Marie Saint and Elizabeth Taylor. Kentucky's folksy Democratic Governor Albert B. ("Happy") Chandler popped cornily from a mob of some 12,000 to accept cheers. The grand old man of U.S. film critics, Louisville Courier-Journalist Boyd Martin, found the $6,000,000 film epic "worth waiting for" and "of cycloramic proportions." He might have said more, but he had to leave early to catch his deadline.

The Air Force's meteoric Lieut. Colonel Frank K. ("Pete") Everest, 36, holder of the world speed record of 1,900 m.p.h. in a Bell X-2 rocket plane, looked longingly beyond the Soviet earth satellite's orbit and into the wildest blue yonder. Now a squadron commander in Germany, Everest announced his yen "to be the first man on the moon." Added Pete Everest: "This is my life's desire."

Baltimore's most exclusive cemetery, Green Mount, was rumored as the place where the Duke and Duchess of Windsor have arranged to be buried. The Duchess' family, Baltimore's Warfields, has long owned a plot in the now sold-out graveyard. Though the Windsors denied any plans for final repose in Green Mount, Warfield family sources confirmed that the Windsors had negotiated for space. If the duke indeed becomes the first ex-King of England to be buried in the New World, one of his near neighbors will be Lincoln's assassin, John Wilkes Booth.

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