Ticketed to start a three-month stretch in jail this week: Boston Textile Magnate Bernard Goldfine, 70, crony of ex-Presidential Aide Sherman Adams. Goldfine was convicted of contempt of a federal court after he refused to produce records bearing on an income tax evasion rap.

The prototype of the penny-pinching near billionaire is U.S. Oilman Jean Paul Getty, 67, who last year plunked down a million more or less, for Sutton Place, the Surrey domain of Britain's Duke of Sutherland, partly to save money on his hotel bills in London and Paris. Last week, as if in final proof of his penny wisdom. Expatriate Getty went pound-foolish with a vengeance. To Sutton Place he invited some 80 gilded guests for dinner on gold plate, then opened the estate to more than a thousand other assorted peers, nobles, high officials, new and old rich. The after-dessert throng carried on in grand style till dawn and on. By then the hardy stragglers were surfeited with champagne, whisky and sturgeon eggs--plus beer for the inelegant and unlimited milk for nondrinkers. When the fireworks, dancing (to three orchestras) and tippling (at four bars) were all over, many of the elite--ranging from the Duke and Duchess of Sutherland to conspicuously untitled Douglas Fairbanks Jr.--had perhaps even forgotten the purpose of the affair. It was billed as a combined mansion warm ing and coming-out ball for Jeanette Constable Maxwell, 17, daughter of a longtime Getty friend. The party drew excellent notices from the press. "Easily the most fabulous evening since the war," burbled London Daily Express Columnist William Hickey, who also hailed it as "good, oldfashioned, vulgar fun." Another waggish Fleet Streeter made a kill joy calculation: the party lasted eight hours and probably cost Getty $30,000 --but in the same period his fortune automatically swelled by an estimated $67,000.

The late Philanthropist Vincent Astor is likely to go down in U.S. tax annals as the multimillionaire with the leastest --for the revenuers. Astor, who died last year at 67, left an estate appraised last week by New York State tax commissioners at an impressive $127,377,021.34. Out of this mountainous greenery came a nadir of sorts in mid-20th century U.S. estate taxes: $253,869.44--less than 0.2% of the amount that Astor could not take with him. How did Testator Astor do it? It seemed, under New York State and federal inheritance statutes, kind of easy: he left about $61.5 million to his wife Brooke as a taxless widow's mite. $60.5 million to the Vincent Astor Foundation and sev eral much smaller charities (also untaxable). Some $5,000,000 went to pay o"f debts, all taxes, administration expenses and lawyers. All that was left to tax was some $775,000, out of which the federal tax-types got a miserly $198,552 as top bite. The French Republic got an unspeakable $1.02 as last lick. The New York appraisal also brought to light the makeup of Astor's investment portfolio. His biggest holding was in Newsweek, Inc., of which he owned 177,200 shares, valued at $4,857,052 by the state appraisers. Since Astor owned about 60% of Newsweek, Inc.'s outstanding shares, the value of its stock is presumably around $8,095,000.

Philadelphia Contractor John B. Kelly Sr., who died last month at 70, left a self-drawn last will and testament just as fabulous and full of fun as most of his life. Happy Jack Kelly, up from hod carrying to become a millionaire and father of a Princess, wanted no squabbling over his estate. All his legatees knew in advance exactly what he meant to leave them. With that matter out of the way, Kelly sat down and penned words of wit and wisdom. To his sons-in-law (including Monaco's Prince Rainier), he left nary a penny: "I don't want to give the impression that I am against sons-in-law. If they are the right type, they will provide for themselves and their families."

Along with a third of his estate, Kelly left his wife Margaret a wry admonition: "Give my son 'Kell' all my personal be longings . . . except the ties, shirts, sweaters and socks, as it seems unnecessary to give him something of which he has already taken possession." After other warnings against a family tendency to gamble and speculate in wildcat stocks. Jack Kelly bade a moving farewell to all his loved ones: "Just remember, when I shove off for greener pastures, or whatever it is on the other side of the curtain, that I do it unafraid, and, if you must know, a little

curious." Speaking at a Pacific Coast writer's powwow, Emmy-winning TV Producer David Susskind, moderator of his own 10 p.,m.-to-sometime chitchat program (Open End), beamed out in the New York City area, was asked which of three presidential candidates on his recent shows came on as the strongest interviewee. Liberal Democrat Susskind gave Liberal Republican Nelson Rockefeller the poorest marks: "He evaded and dodged every effort to get him to substantiate what he had said in public only a few days earlier." Another disheartening performer was Democrat Adlai Stevenson: "I approached him with something like idolatry, which I fear came through on the show. But I was disappointed in him. There was a great vagueness, a sort of drifting about in space." The winner, hardly an idol of Susskind's, was Republican Richard Nixon: "I'm not a Nixon fan, but I was enormously impressed. Unlike his colleague in the White House, he knows what he is talking about. He is amazing."

In Meeker, Colo., Minnewa Bell Roosevelt, 48, fourth wife of Local Rancher Elliott Roosevelt, 49, sued him for divorce on the ground of mental cruelty.

The most influential man in Siam, namely its king, Bhumibol Adulyadej, 32, and his svelte, archfeminist queen, Sirikit, 27, dropped into Washington for a friendly visit. They were well received--what with some of the rebuffs that the personalized spearheads of U.S. foreign policy have suffered in the Far East lately. In fact, the capital was delighted with the wide-eyed couple and their unabashed liking for the U.S. At National Airport, Bhumibol, born in the environs of Harvard University, where his father studied medicine, paid tribute to his "two motherlands." That evening at the White House, the King swapped recipes with D wight Eisenhower for Thailand noodle soup and Ike's ice cream. While the cookery talk went on, the U.S. Marine Band orchestra accommodated its listeners with a Thai march, composed by His Majesty, who is a jazz buff. Not on the program: songs from the Thai-strung The King and I, disliked by Bhumibol because he regards the musical as a slur upon his lusty ancestor. Addressing a joint session of Congress next day, the King set a new high in expressing appreciation for U.S. foreign-assistance funds. Said he candidly: "We are grateful for American aid. But we intend one day to do without it."

In the 23 years that have rolled away since Aviatrix Amelia Earhart disappeared in the Pacific on a globe-girdling flight, many wild guesses have been made about where and how she vanished. Last week a CBS news team produced one of the most likely explanations yet of Amelia's fate. Clued in by two Japanese who were living on the Japanese-held island of Saipan in 1937, the newsmen went there, found many natives who recalled that a plane had ditched just offshore in that year. The wreckage of the plane was located, and parts of it are now being checked to determine if it was indeed Amelia's air craft. If so, intrepid Airlady Earhart was some frightful 1,500 miles off course--a real possibility because of her known knack of getting lost, especially likely in the vast loneliness of the western Pacific with the relatively primitive navigational aids of the day to guide her. After the ditching, what happened to Amelia and Navigator Fred Noonan? CBS's best guess is that they were executed by the Japanese, who wanted no travelers to tell tales of how they were heavily fortifying Saipan, contrary to existing treaties, four years before Pearl Harbor.

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