Menu for Sunday

Good, grey Adolph Ochs, late publisher of the good, grey New York Times, once asked an earnest young man from Ogden Reid's Tribune to come see him. They met one winter day in Atlantic City. Side by side in a wheel chair on the Boardwalk they chatted for hours, while they were pushed along. At the end of the ride, Ochs had picked a new Sunday editor.

He picked well. This week, Editor Lester Markel marked his 25th year in the only Times job he has had. In that period, the Sunday Times had doubled its circulation (to 1,092,000) without stooping to comics or sex./- It is a national newspaper: each week it is read in 11,270 U.S. cities and towns. And grave and greying Editor Markel is now a coequal, Under Publisher Arthur Hays Sulzberger, of Managing Editor Edwin L. James.

Call Me Mister. Markel inherited a staff of seven, a skinny magazine with stodgy makeup, and a grab bag of features that Ochs dubbed the "also-ran." Today, as the perfectionist overseer of 55 staffers (who call him "Mr. Markel"), he runs 1) a fat and thoughtful magazine, slickly printed in rotogravure; 2) a review that interprets all the week's fit-to-print news (including Saturday's); 3) a section for drama and assorted other arts (plus philately and travel); 4) a thick book-review section.

He runs them as he runs himself, on a tight and merciless schedule. To keep on top of the news, he is up at 6 a.m. in his roomy Manhattan apartment, to spend two hours over the morning papers (including the Daily Worker) and a pot of tea. At 8 he lies under a sun lamp, a portable radio perched on his bare belly, and catches the news over the Times''s WQXR. At 9:30 he sits down to breakfast: orange juice, six stewed prunes, hot cereal, one cup of coffee. When he reaches his eighth-floor office he buzzes for a secretary and dictates a great pile of memos. Timesmen in Washington or London may hear from him four or five times a day.

A restless idea man, Markel tries to anticipate the news, has nothing but scorn for editors who are caught napping. Three days after the Russian composers were spanked by their government, his brother-in-law, Philosopher Irwin Edman, called up to suggest a feature piece on the musician vis-a-vis the state. Yes, said Markel, a good idea; Theater Critic Brooks Atkinson had written it and it was already in type.

Up from The Bronx. Markel has been driving himself since he worked his way through the Columbia School of Journalism (1914) as legman, sportswriter and Linotype operator for the now extinct Northside News in The Bronx. On the old Tribune he worked up from reporter to assistant managing editor before he left.

For relaxation, Markel gardens at his country place on the Jersey shore and tries to drum up more interest in current affairs at women's clubs and schools. Says he: "Twenty-five percent of the voting population is hopelessly uninformed, 25% have accurate information, and there's a grey area of 50% who could be informed but aren't."

Because he often demands that his authors (including outside byliners) rewrite their stuff, Markel says, "I have a reputation for being tough on them. I'm tougher on myself; I often rewrite a piece four times. The good fellows around here say I'm a fine editor; the bad ones think I'm a stinker. I'll settle for that."

/- But with one concession, a tough crossword puzzle.

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