Unbridled sex appeal and bridled hobbyhorses make an unlikely scene. Yet there was Israeli Siren Dahlia Lavi, 26, playing the role of the Jewish Mother with all the smothering solicitude of Molly Goldberg. Since Son Rouven was born to her and Producer-Husband John Sullivan 20 months ago, Dahlia has been hewing to her London hearthside during film breaks and doing all those cuddly, maternal things that sloe-eyed vamps are not supposed to do. Devotees of decolletage need not worry, though; Dahlia is currently appearing in one screen steamer, Nobody Runs Forever, and has just completed another called Some Girls Do.

Consider New York Mayor John Lindsay's reply to the students of Rough Rock School on the Navajo Reservation in Arizona. The youngsters had written a letter offering to take Manhattan Island off his hands for $24 worth of trinkets and beads. Replied His Honor, with equal seriousness: "Your offer falls far short of the current value of Manhattan Island--which has become the East Coast's answer to your own Monument Valley. Our unanimous judgment is that because of the enormous growth in building and population on Manhattan since 1623, combined with the creation of a modern transportation system, distinguished architecture, wonderful park and recreation facilities and our nationally renowned credit standing, we could not possibly afford to sell Manhattan for $24." No, concluded Lindsay: "We won't take a nickel less than $80." The Rough Rockers reportedly think that is a bit much.

Rondels are not written to Paris in the winter, when it does in fact drizzle and cold fogs enshroud the Seine. But to Madame Mai Ky, 26, the beautiful wife of South Viet Nam's Vice President Nguyen Cao Ky, the first trip to the "City of Lights" was a source of infinite wonder. With her husband and three-year-old daughter Duyen, Mai ("Snow Flower" in Vietnamese) explored the palace grounds at Versailles. When Ky was busy, Viet Nam's Second Lady delightedly wove her way through the salons of Courreges and Lanvin. The Vice President was spared a whopping bill only by his wife's prudent deference to protocol. Said she wistfully: "I have no occasion to wear such gowns. At official functions I wear only my national costume."

It is doubtful that all the snow, rain, heat or gloom of night in the world could have stayed outgoing Postmaster General Marvin Watson, 44, from his self-appointed rounds. With perhaps an eye cocked to the 1970 gubernatorial election in his native Texas, Watson let it be known that he has visited 198 post offices in 48 states and covered a total of 89,000 air miles since his appointment last April. At most stops, Government-paid photographers snapped pictures of Watson shaking hands with postal employees while an aide clicked a counter each time Watson pressed the flesh. Last handshake count: 69,725. If urged, Watson will admit that he saved the Postal Department $10 million last year. What matter if the postal service's deficit is still running at more than $1 billion a year? After all, L.B.J. once called Watson "as wise as my father, as gentle as my mother, as loyal to my side as Lady Bird."

When Swedish Starlet Britt Ekland, 26, first announced her intention to divorce peripatetic Comedian Peter Sellers, 43, she pleaded a case that would pluck at any mother's heartstrings. "You can't imagine," she wailed, "how exhausting it is transporting a baby, a nanny and all your possessions all over the world." So saying, Britt left Peter and began transporting baby, nanny and possessions all over the world--off to New York for the filming of Britt's latest movie, Stiletto, then down to Puerto Rico for more shooting, then back to London for the Sellers' December divorce. Last week Britt, four-year-old Victoria and dutiful nanny popped back into New York for some more Stiletto. It turns out that the movie is to be completed at a third location. So before long, Britt will be transporting . . .

The Order of Merit is the most coveted nonpolitical honor to which a Briton can aspire. Membership is restricted to 24 British subjects and is granted directly by the Crown. That honor was fittingly bestowed last week on Novelist-Humanist E. M. Forster (A Passage to India) on the eve of his 90th birthday. The sage celebrated birthday and royal gift quietly with friends, then returned to King's College, Cambridge, where he has lived as an Honorary Fellow since 1946. Age has not dulled his gentle wit. Asked if he would not some day want his death to be commemorated in King's Chapel, he replied: "Oh, no, not the chapel. That would smell too much of religion. It would be letting the humanists down."

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