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The burly Soviet Ambassador to the Court of St. James's, Jacob Malik, popped up at a London reception with his right hand in a bandage, accepted scattered condolences but offered no explanations. The Soviet Embassy later unhelpfully allowed: "Maybe it was a skin irritation."
The palace crisis that has openly rocked The Netherlands and not too privately estranged Queen Juliana and her consort, Prince Bernhard, moved closer to resolution. Juliana accepted with overflowing gratitude "for services rendered" the resignations of her private secretary, Baron van Heeckeren van Molecaten, and his buddy, the Queen's chamberlain, Johann van Maasdick. Significance of the quittings: the baron's family first introduced the Queen to Faith Healer Greet Hofmans (TIME, June 25), whose metaphysical grip on Juliana led to the crisis.
Sending a Library of Congress audience into a gale of scholarly snickers, aging (79) Biographer Archibald Henderson, a perennial examiner of Playwright George Bernard Shaw, trotted out a brand-new after-Shavian notion. It seems, related Henderson, that Shaw once got a letter that got the better of him. It was addressed to George Bernard Shawm. In a beard-tossing fury, Shaw roared to his wife that his correspondent could not even spell the name of the world's greatest man. Moreover, fumed G.B.S., there was no such word as "shawm." Shaw's wife, one of the world's most martyred women, quietly disagreed, led Shaw to a dictionary and pointed to "shawm ... an old-fashioned wind instrument long since passed out of common use."
*A gallant Gallic overestimate.