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

Battle-weary after skirmishes with union cooks and waiters who have thrown an inelegant picket line around his posh Manhattan saloon, Stork Club Proprietor Sherman Billingsley .withdrew to his East Side town house, discovered that the working class had infiltrated his defenses. Perched on his front stoop, six house painters were chomping sandwiches and enjoying the sun. Spying out union men behind the ham on rye, Billingsley invited the workmen to "get the hell out of here," waved a .25 automatic. Summoned to the station house, Billingsley showed up with Attorney Roy Cohn, doe-eyed onetime boy commando for the late Senator Joseph McCarthy, spouted obscenities at the cops, cried: "What are you trying to do--get everybody's picture in the papers?" Later, charged with assault and relieved of the automatic and two other pistols, and of his police gun-toting permit, Billingsley bawled: "The whole thing was brought on by a bunch of racketeering Communists."

With sennets and flourishes, Cinemactress Jayne Mansfield brushed aside objections that she is too, too solidly fleshed for tragedy, announced that she was memorizing Hamlet's soliloquies, would follow the examples of Actresses Siobhan McKenna and Sarah Bernhardt by playing the Prince of Denmark, possibly on television. Proposed costume for Actress Mansfield: black tights, bare bodkin.

In the Philippines, onetime U.S. Ambassador to Russia Charles ("Chip") Bohlen presented his credentials to President Carlos P. Garcia at Malacanan Palace, later chatted informally over cigarettes while the first rain after a long dry spell--an omen for the new ambassador's success--began to fall on Manila.

West Pointer General Nathan F. Twining, 59, Air Force Chief of Staff and soon to be Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, took time off from a top-level conference at Quantico, Va., got photographed with the commandant of Marine Corps Schools there, Lieut. General Merrill B. Twining, 54, his seldom-publicized, Annapolis-educated kid brother.

Unlike Harry Truman, his chief coat holder during the Democratic Presidential nomination fight last summer, New York's Governor Averell Harriman has no objection to having a grandchild named after him. Last week Ave stood by as his sixth grandchild and second grand-namesake, the seven-month-old son of Mr. and Mrs. Stanley G. Mortimer Jr., was christened Averell Harriman Mortimer.

Sultry Cinemactress Ava Gardner, whose estrangement from hubby Frank Sinatra is now in its fourth fun-packed year, was all set to make it illegal. In Mexico, apparently serious this time about shedding Frankie--she started through the Reno mill three years ago, then lost interest--Ava filed again for divorce. Current object of her defection: Italian Comedian Walter Chiari, who has replaced Bullfighter Luis Miguel Dominguin, and other lesser beefcake, as Ava's great and good friend.

Invited to shed some light on why Director John Huston stomped off the set of A Farewell to Arms in a rancorous farewell to Producer David O. Selzniclc last April, Farewell Scriptwriter Ben Hecht smiled the smile of a man who can distinguish the buttered side of the bread, shed only cigar smoke: "Ah, there is an old Chinese proverb that is the best clue to the incompatibility of David and John: 'When two eagles fly off together into the sky and disappear into a cloud, who can say which flew the higher?' "

Slim and stately aboard her official horse Imp, Britain's Queen Elizabeth II celebrated her official 31st birthday (she was born on April 21, 1926, but British monarchs are feted in June, when the weather is good) by reviewing the Irish Guards at the annual Trooping of the Color. The same day she announced her birthday honors list. New peers: Cinemogul J. Arthur Rank, Sir Horace Evans, the Queen's physician, and Lieut. General Sir Willoughy Norrie. Geoffrey Crowther, editor emeritus of the prestigious weekly The Economist, and Oxford's Isaiah Berlin were knighted, and peppery old (78) Conductor Sir Thomas Beecham became a Companion of Honour.

Up to his golden ears in exhaust fumes, cocktail onions.and punched commuters' tickets, cornfed Author Richard Bissell, who came east from Iowa to write the smash Broadway hit Pajama Game, decided to abandon Connecticut's exurbian lotus groves, take a summer's furlough in his native Dubuque. His reason: "The East seems to have a corner on the phony market. These characters are afraid they might be caught not knowing something. Some of these advertising guys--real phonies--would be better off running a gas station. You've got people going to the theater here simply because they ought to be seen at the theater. They hang out in these ginmills just to make sure they're in the act. What act?"

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