The constant companions on this honeymoon drew a bit of attention, even in sophisticated St. Moritz. The bridegroom, Greek Shipping Magnate Stavros Niarchos, 56, was spending practically all his time skiing with Eugenie Livanos, who divorced him only last December after 18 years of marriage. Meanwhile, the girl he had eloped with, Avid Skier Charlotte Ford, 24, was spending her days in and around the bridal suite of St. Moritz' Palace Hotel. At last Charlotte explained that she had a legitimate reason for not joining the fun on the slopes. She expects a baby this summer.

In his bittersweetly beloved Dublin, scarcely a stout was downed in his honor at Davy Byrne's, the pub he celebrated. But in Paris, at the American Center for Students and Artists, 350 partisans of James Joyce got together to celebrate the 84th anniversary of his birth. After Author Mary McCarthy, Joyce Scholar Stuart Gilbert and the rest of the cult articulately wished him a happy birthday, the ghost of James lyrically garbled everything by reciting some of Ulysses from a tape recorder.

On a three-week vacation in Israel, Author John Steinbeck, 63, told Tel Aviv reporters about his next book, a "diagnostic" work called America and the Americans. "We have achieved comfort, ease and security," said the Nobel prizewinner. "Now the problem is survival and finding new things worth accomplishing." He figured the book was worth accomplishing because "Europeans always take us apart. It's never been done by an American." And what about H. L. Mencken, just for one?

As he lay dying last November, Kuwait's Emir Abdullah as Salem as Sabah scrawled a final command on a writing pad: "Carry on in the most enlightened way." And indeed, his brother and successor, Sabah as Salem as Sabah, 51, has been behaving most luminously. First he ordered a $140 bonus for all government employees in the rich little oil kingdom--a token that set the royal treasury back by $13 million. Then he decided his own pay was a bit much, had the National Assembly cut his salary from $28 million to $22.4 million per annum, with the difference to go to "general-welfare causes."

It was supposed to be just a quick visit. But the Roman holiday was such fun that Jacqueline Kennedy stayed on for nearly a week, fox hunting in the nearby countryside, shopping at the high-fashion house of Princess Irene Galitzine, and visiting some of her other noble friends. In a cape and a white chiffon gown, she attended a dinner party at the 15th century palazzo of Prince Aspreno Colonna, next day bought toys for Caroline and John-John. Flying back to Switzerland to rejoin the family ski outing at Gstaad, Jackie took some other special gifts: a rosary and Vatican stamps that Pope Paul gave her for the children during a private 15-minute audience.

Put silver wings on my son's chest,

Make him one of America's best.

He'll be a man they'll test one day--

Have him win the green beret.

At last, a folk singer for the G.I. side. Army Staff Sergeant Barry Sadler, 25, who doesn't wonder where have all the young men gone since he's been there himself, was shooting up the record charts with The Ballad of the Green Berets, a High Noon-ish tune he composed two years ago while serving with the U.S. Special Forces in Viet Nam. Looking forward to the record royalties, Sadler, now stationed at Fort Bragg, N.C., reported that he wants to spend "a large percentage" of the money on a fund to educate the children of dead Army comrades.

After being, at one time or another, a rower for Yale, a mucker in the Comstock Lode, a moneyed backer of the movie Gone With the Wind, and one of the world's most acceptable polo players, Cornelius Vanderbilt Whitney, 66, has turned to a more reflective field. An exhibition with four of his "conservation" paintings, including such tableaux as Lone Eagle, Beach at Salmon Lake and Approaching Storm, opened at Florida's Palm Beach Galleries. The canvases immediately sold out at prices between $300 and $400, with the money going to Manhattan's Whitney Museum of American Art.

The type casting was classic. For this month's production of Marlowe's Dr. Faustus, the Oxford University Dramatic Society engaged Elizabeth Taylor, 33, to walk on as the face that launched a thousand ships. For the lead, the students got her husband, Richard Burton, 40, who generally sells his Shakespearean soul to the devil in Hollywood. But this time, strictly on the side of the angels, the Burtons will not be paid for their five-night stand. In a Rolls-Royce followed by their luggage cart (a Jaguar), the troupers swept into Oxford (sennet, alarums) and settled down for rehearsals.

Opening a four-month run in New Haven, Playwright Lillian Hellman, 60, had a new children's hour. Author John Mersey, now master of Yale's Pierson College, had persuaded her to teach eight freshmen about life and writing in an afternoon seminar this term. "I've got a recommendation for you," said Instructor Hellman as she commenced the course. "All young people make things simple. But there ain't nothing that is."

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