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

Conducted around London's storied Scotland Yard last week, U. S. Attorney General Homer S. Cummings mourned: "It is terribly difficult to write about crime without dramatizing it in such a way as to make it a fascinating subject."

Finding a sleek coupe-&-trailer parked on Riverside Drive late one rainy night, an indignant Manhattan policeman hammered on the trailer door, woke up North Carolina's Senator Robert Rice Reynolds, his campaign manager and his Negro cook & chauffeur. Ordered the policeman: "Move on." Sleepy Senator Reynolds, who is trying to prove that he can tour 9,000 miles of the U. S. at a cost of $100 per person, climbed out, drove to another street. Next morning a garageman reported that Senator Reynolds & friends, annoyed by the patter of rain on their roof, had left in a taxicab, spent the night at a hotel. "We spent the night right here!" bristled the Senator. Welcoming cameramen in his sumptuous trailer, he led them through sleeping quarters and study to the galley, where he rolled up his sleeves, draped a towel around his middle, wiped out an obviously unused frying pan. After more posing outside in the rain, he changed his wet shirt, pulled out for Boston.

At Cabrillo Beach, Calif., Stratonaut Jean Piccard, swimming under water, bumped heads with another underwater swimmer, was treated for cuts & bruises.

Back in Manhattan from a European junket, James Watson Gerard, Wartime Ambassador to Germany, windy chairman of the Committee on America Self-Contained, announced that the nation's "most influential person" is now Countess Haugwitz (Barbara Hutton). Grumped he: "There's an expressionless young woman who inherited $50,000,000 and now rushes about gathering titles, good or bad, with the speed of an antelope. She does her country no good and spends her money abroad. The result is a strong tax-the-rich sentiment that we're all going to suffer from if we've piled up a little money."

In New Haven John Coolidge, taciturn son of the 30th President, was drawn into conversation about his job with the New York, New Haven & Hartford Railroad. Having progressed in seven years from junior clerk in the statistical bureau to the general manager's office to the accounting department to ''a responsible position" in the purchasing department, New Haven's Coolidge declared: "I love being called a railroad man. It's been highly interesting and very nice. . . . I've never really had any desire to mix in politics and there is little danger of my being asked. During the years father was in local politics we had enough to get by on but that's all."

Hugh Samuel Johnson printed in his Scripps-Howard column a letter he received from Mrs. Elizabeth Mead Johnson, 79, "a nice old lady in the Middle West." Excerpt:

"Things are just terrible--worse every day. Groceries almost out of reach of those who have money, and starving those who have not. Men at the helm have dream ideas but no horse sense. . . . Poor old Franklin is losing his grip. He and the people cannot pull in the same harness with some of his friends. . . . The people out here believe in the President and have not forgotten what he did for them, at first. But it does seem that now they are getting it harder than ever with every kind of tax and such useless expenditures mostly for those who do not, nor ever did or will help in any way."

Columnist Johnson: "The nice old lady is my mother."

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