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AMONG THE LILLIPUTIANS 41 board of many a player and technician at Paramount. One year he sent a bird to Bosley Crowther, the good-natured, erudite film editor of The New York Times—the first such gesture to a film critic. When the two met in New York a short time later at the premiere of a DeMille picture, Bosley thanked the pro- ducer for the gift, added with a smile, "You're the only movie producer in America with the courage to send a turkey into New York in advance of his picture!" A DeMille turkey was a gift to each staff member at Christmas time, carefully selected by the office to be of uniform weight and size so that it could not be inferred that Mr. DeMille was favoring this or that worker. Larger birds went to studio execu- tives, a giant specimen being reserved for Y. Frank Freeman, Paramount studio head. It was Mr. DeMille's fond desire on those occasions to choose a bird from his flock that was too big for the Freeman oven, an affable sort of contest that went on year after year. On Thanksgiving, it was suggested to the staff members that they might wish to purchase a DeMille bird, and most of us did, the price being the same as that at the local markets, with the added advantage that it placed us in the somewhat exclusive position of inviting friends and relatives to partake of "one of Mr. DeMille's turkeys." They were excellent birds with, we always thought, more white meat and whiter white meat than the coarse, unpedigreed type sold on the outside. Persons high in rank or wealth were the natural objects of Mr, DeMille's benefactions at Paradise, Entry was restrictive. "Anyone less than an ambassador would have to have a gun," an older staff man once remarked. The social thermometer was extremely sensitive in other respects: all guests were not given the full treatment. But those so favored were permitted a moderate dip into DeMille's stock of 50-year-old bourbon. These ancient spirits were once part of the store aboard the DeMille yacht Seaward, a 106-foot schooner-type vessel.