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

In the flickering light of oil lamps, five gravediggers. working before dawn in London's Highgate Cemetery, dug up the moldy, plain elmwood coffin of Karl Marx, father of Communism, whose remains had lain undisturbed for almost 62 years, ever since he died peacefully in his small London house. They reburied him in a larger Highgate lot, some 200 yards away. There, Britain's Marx Memorial Committee will erect a polished black granite monument (estimated cost: $14,-ooo) with a reverent inscription.

Cinemactor Marlon Brando, who used to prowl around Hollywood in a T shirt and sneakers, was assuming a strangely respectable air. Two months ago, in France, he announced that he was "officially engaged" to Josane Mariani-Berenger, 19, stepdaughter of a French fisherman. Many Brando fans prophesied that their erratic hero was having one of his passing romances. But last week the young actor, to all appearances a resolutely changed man, returned from France on the liner United States. Asked by waiting newsmen about his intentions, he snapped: "It is not a publicity stunt, and I do intend to marry the girl ... in the summer." He bridled at a question about the difference between foreign and American girls: "In choosing a wife, I don't think it's important to question her nationality, providing she's not Joe Stalin's cousin." A bit later, after a private rendezvous with Josane in his Manhattan apartment, the brand-new Brando emerged to pose for photographers in a green Tyrolean hat that suspiciously resembled a homburg, and he comported himself as if he were a rising young banker about to catch the 5:17 for the suburbs. Josane, pert with her carelessly gamin hairdo, looked a trifle moonstruck--but also like a fisherwoman sure of her catch. While in conference with his fiancee, Brando had changed the wedding date: the wild bells would now ring out some time this month.

Georgia's Governor-elect Marvin Griffin, a tireless white supremecist, was determined to get around the Supreme Court's decision against segregation in public schools. Hearing of hopeful talk in Washington that the South will eventually have sober second thoughts about the decision, Griffin drawled genially: "This business of going easy on us doesn't interest me ... I'm not for any cooling-off period. I'm for segregation, period. If the end of segregation comes 50 years from now, it wouldn't be a bit better."

A cozy luncheon at New York's executive mansion in Albany was the roundabout tipoff that Governor Thomas E. Dewey had formally conceded the defeat of his hand-picked successor, New York's Republican Senator Irving S. Ives, in last month's election. Mrs. Frances Dewey played gracious hostess to Mrs. Marie Norton Whitney Harriman, second wife of the state's Democratic Governor-elect, Railroadynast W. (for William) Averell Harriman.*A sometime interior decora tor, Marie inspected the official silver service, then looked over the mansion with a practiced eye. She allowed that "it doesn't need much." Among the additions she planned for the place were the five Harriman grandchildren as frequent visitors, plus her personal collection of top American paintings. Marie, who ran a successful Manhattan art gallery for twelve years after her marriage to "Honest Ave," intended to leave their famed accumulation of French modern art at their Manhattan home. At the windup of her tour through her newest home (as of Dec. 31), Marie told beaming Frances Dewey: "It's charming, terribly attractive."

With a cultured snort at reports that he would soon perform in a Las Vegas pleasure dome for $35,000 a week, British Playwright Noel Coward, in the U.S. ostensibly to browse around Broadway, showed a bittersweet regard for the prospect of such easy money: "I keep on getting offers, and what I am offered is often trebled by the press, which gives me a lovely false feeling of prosperity." But Las Vegas nonetheless holds a certain attraction for Coward, who has long lived opulently by his wits: "They do pay the most extraordinary kind of money."

Curtis ("Buzzie" Dall) Roosevelt, 25, a Manhattan advertising executive, who first won fame as a romper on the lawn when Grandfather F.D.R. lived in the

White House, was pinned down by a newshen, cajoled into admitting that next spring he will marry (his second) ex-Model Ruth Sublette, 27, an editor of Glamour magazine.

Visiting at Columbia University's Teachers College, stronghold of the educational tenet that corporal punishment leaves enduring bruises on a child's emotions, Britain's Field Marshal Viscount Montgomery of Alamein spoke up in favor of using the rod. Admittedly no great shakes as a scholar,*Monty, who got an honorary doctor of laws degree from Columbia's President Grayson Kirk, gave a lecture on "Education for Leadership." Said he: "I'm for beating the bad boys--not the girls ... A boy cannot be expected to imagine . . . the misery and pain he has the power of inflicting on others ... A good beating with a cane can have a remarkable sense of awakening on the mind and conscience of a bad boy. Not to administer such chastisement . . . is in effect a sort of cruel neglect."

Meeting the press in San Francisco, Evangelist Billy Graham (TIME, Oct. 25) noted that TIME stated last week that all twelve U.S. professional football teams would draw about 2,000,000 spectators during the 1954 season. "We drew more than that in six weeks in England," said he. Commented a reporter: "And they have 22 men on the field to your one." Quipped Graham: "Yes, but I play more often than they do."

*The Harrimans were married in 1930, not long after her divorce from wealthy Sportsman Cornelius Vanderbilt ("Sonny") Whitney and Harriman's divorce from Kitty Lawrance Harriman (who died in 1936). Each has two children by the earlier marriage. *Son of an Anglican bishop, home-tutored until he was 14, Montgomery bulled his way through London's venerable St. Paul's School as a distinguished athlete, went on to Sandhurst, Britain's West Point, where he graduated 3Oth in his class of 150.

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