Friday, Nov. 10, 1961

Back in Karachi from his U.S. visit, Camel Driver Bashir Ahmad was a changed man. Bashir, whose customary costume used to be baggy salwar pants and a sweaty turban, now swanked around town in a spiffy achkan (a knee-length formal coat) and karakul cap, saw would-be visitors by appointment only. Saddest of all, Bashir is a camel driver no more. Awaiting delivery of a truck given him by his U.S. host, Vice President Lyndon Johnson. Bashir has leased his camel and cart to a relative.

Thumbing through successive editions of a bestselling college text written by President Kennedy's favorite economist, the sharp-eyed nabobs of the U.S. Chamber of Commerce delightedly noted signs of creeping deflation. Back in 1948, in the first edition of his Economics, An Introductory Analysis, M.I.T. Professor Paul Samuelson, 46, argued that price rises of up to 5% a year were only mildly inflationary, "need not cause too great concern." In subsequent revisions of the book, Samuelson whittled away at the permissible annual price rise until this year, in the fifth edition, he cut it to a mere 2%--a figure that he proceeded to chop once again to 1.5% in a recent speech. Said the conservative Chamber: "We hope the professor will keep on talking and that his book will go through many more editions."

For a change of pace from the deep-diving decolletage of her costumes in Cleopatra, Cinemactress Liz Taylor, 28, swathed herself in black from rain-hatted head right on down past pelvis-hugging slacks to cowboy-booted toes, joined Husband Eddie Fisher, 33, on a shopping expedition in Rome. Even in this relatively chaste garb, Liz proved capable of disrupting traffic, had to leap from the path of a gaping motorist who forgot for a moment where his brake was.

"This is like Dieppe," said dazed ex-War Correspondent Quentin Reynolds, 59, after a visit to Manhattan's jam-packed Peppermint Lounge to view the nation's newest dance craze, the abdomen-wrenching Twist. "I'm glad I was there, but I don't ever want to go again."

The U.S. Army, already up to its boot-tops in professional athletic talents, last week snared two more famous names: New York Yankee Shortstop Tony Kubek, 25, married only two weeks, who joined Wisconsin's Red Arrow Division at Fort Lewis, Wash., and Green Bay Packer Halfback Paul Hornung, 25, top scorer in the National Football League, who reports next week to Fort Riley, Kans., at the end of a two-week deferment granted on medical grounds. Said Hornung, who originally was disqualified because of a pinched nerve in his neck, then pronounced fit after a second exam: "I'm sorry that my situation apparently needed special attention."

"This was one of the things I hoped most in the world to see some day," said Jacqueline Kennedy. The treat: 34 relics buried with the boy Pharaoh Tutankhamen 33 centuries ago and put on display last week at Washington's National Gallery of Art as the opening gun in a two-year U.S. tour sponsored by Egypt's Department of Antiquities. After pausing pensively before a statuette of the falcon-headed god Horus, the First Lady inspected solid-gold amulets and rings, alabaster vases and a miniature, solid-gold coffin that held the mummified entrails of the 18-year-old king. Ahead of Jackie lay still other exotic sights. Later this month she will make a "personal and private" two-week visit to India and Pakistan.

At a Washington press conference, Marine Corps Commandant David M. Shoup laid down the Marine line on the current pressure for anti-Communist indoctrination of U.S. troops. Said the bespectacled. World War II Medal of Honor winner: "We don't indoctrinate hate against anybody. We're professional soldiers. We fight any enemy the President designates." Besides, added the general, in a line that struck a chord with veterans of the armed services' World War II pro-Soviet propaganda, "You might build up a hate against one enemy and find yourself fighting another."

Unwilling to become the first nation to keep a Nobel prizewinner from collecting his award since Russia shackled Boris Pasternak in 1958, South Africa bowed with utter gracelessness last week, granted ex-Zulu Chieftain Albert John Luthuli, 62, a ten-day parole from the virtual house arrest under which he has lived since 1959 so that he might travel to Oslo to accept the 1960 Nobel Peace Prize. This was done, grumbled Interior Minister Jan de Klerk, "notwithstanding the fact that the government fully realizes the award was not made on merit."

Busy with a scalpel instead of the steel blades on which she glided to two women's world figure-skating championships and the 1956 Olympic crown, shapely Tenley Albright, 26, took time out to announce her engagement to greying, crew-cut Tudor Gardiner, 43, son of Maine's late Governor (1929-33) William Tudor Gardiner. Tenley, a Harvard Med School graduate, still has five rugged years of surgical residency ahead of her, and plans to re-enter skating competition only if she can fit it in between hospital and homemaking. Gardiner, a Harvardman (class of '40), whose previous marriage ended in divorce, has forsaken a law career to work for a Ph.D. in classical philology, eventually hopes to teach.

Leopold Sedar Senghor, 55, Poet-President of the West African Republic of Senegal, acquitted himself well in both roles last week. At the United Nations, Senghor rose to deliver a home truth to his fellow Africans: that imperialism comes in all colors, "brown, yellow or black'' as well as white. In Washington, he talked politics with President Kennedy, iambics with Fellow Poets Carl Sandburg, 83, and Langston Hughes, 59, at a White House luncheon. And in Cambridge, Mass., Senghor, whose first wife was an African and whose second is a white woman, wowed Harvard's French-speaking literary set by reading two of his poems--La Femme Blanche and La Femme Noire. Sample verses:

Naked woman, dark woman, In the shadow of your hair, My anguish is lightened by the near suns of your eyes.

At her coming-out party in London's smart Quaglino's restaurant, Celia Sandys, 17, daughter of Britain's Commonwealth Relations Minister Duncan Sandys and granddaughter of Sir Winston Churchill, was honored by a visit from the Former Naval Person himself, now 86. "I shall be staying only a half hour, my dear," said Sir Winston, who had just got over a slight cold. But as he sipped champagne and surveyed the 200 dancers in the ballroom, Sir Winston let his first half hour slip by, then another and most of a third. At 12:20 a.m. he finally kissed his granddaughter good night, steered Lady Churchill into an elevator and headed for home, 57 minutes behind schedule.

As diplomats of 68 nations assembled to congratulate him on his forthcoming 80th birthday (Nov. 25) and the third anniversary of his coronation, Pope John XXIII unburdened himself of a sobering exhortation. "Grounds for fear for the future of mankind are not lacking," said the Pontiff. This, he added, makes it all the more urgent for men to "use well the time given them to act in favor of peace, of civilization and of true progress."

Turkish President Cemal Gursel beamed with pride as he roared away from Ankara's new Parliament building in the first auto ever made in Turkey, a four-cylinder, 60-h.p. job, with a chauffeur at the wheel. A scant 100 yards later, General Gursel's smile froze as the auto coughed and died. "We made this car with the Western part of our minds," he berated the chauffeur, "but with the Oriental part we forgot to put gasoline in it." So saying, General Gursel stepped into a fully gassed Detroit job, purred on his way.

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