A Tiny Party on Fifth Avenue

"I feel as though I've just become a piece of public property," said Jacqueline Kennedy after her husband was elected President of the U.S. Today, 17 months after his death, she still belongs to the people like some uncrowned queen. Now that her period of public mourning is past, she has been gradually trying to resume life as a private person. She has gingerly ventured forth to the theater and an occasional discotheque, taken her children skiing and to the circus. But she is still trailed wherever she goes by the watchful eye of the Secret Service, finds herself still subjected to some of the burdens of public life.

The Fellow in the Flashbulbs. The burdens are subtly troublesome. There is the escort problem. The charming partner, or the attractive bachelor she might like to dance with, is not likely to be the man on her arm as the limousine arrives at the theater, or wherever. The fellow in the flashbulbs has to be an old knight in shining armor, such as Adlai Stevenson or Averell Harriman --someone of national stature, mature dignity and no aura of romance.

There is the official mail-- handled by an office on Park Avenue, staffed by eight letter answerers. And there is the fine-mesh social screening to keep out the good-cause riders and the self-promoters, and let through the people who are interesting and amusing and attractive and can be counted on not to take advantage. This screening process is the job of her inner circle, presided over by her younger sister and closest friend, Lee Radziwill.

With Lee's help, the circle has expanded notably during the past few Last week much of it was even to the naked eye, at what Lee Radziwill called "a teeny, tiny dance for than 100 -- just a little thing we're before we go back to London."

Before Lee's little thing, there were a couple of teeny, tiny dinners. Jacqueline, in a white silk crepe evening dress, had two tables of ten for an entree of stuffed veal, and on her right was the white-maned dean of U.S. conductors, Leopold Stokowski.

Princess Radziwill arrived in a long, lime-green silk crepe by Yves St. Laurent, edged with gold. Mrs. Kennedy's guest list had plenty of show business: Conductor Leonard Bernstein, Movie Producer Sam Spiegel and Broadway's Mike Nichols, Sybil Burton and Arlene Francis, plus Economist J. Kenneth Galbraith and Politicians Robert F. Kennedy, Pierre Salinger and Franklin D. Roosevelt Jr.

Masses & Glasses. The dance in the Radziwills' duplex, seven blocks south at 969 Fifth Avenue, got under way at about 11. A five-piece Lester Lanin group made music at one end of the apricot-moire dining room. Kennedy Sisters Patricia (Mrs. Peter Lawford) and Jean (Mrs. Stephen E. Smith) were on hand, as was Architect Philip C. Johnson, Broadway Writer Adolph Green, and Marisol, the Venezuelan sculptress. Maurice Chevalier and Sammy Davis Jr. dropped in after their shows to do some turns.

There were masses of spring flowers, many of them imported from France, and glasses and glasses of champagne, all of it imported from France. Jacqueline was still dancing at 5 a.m. But for Jackie, the pleasures of private relaxation can never be wholly separated from the imperatives of public duty. This month she will fly to England to help Queen Elizabeth dedicate a memorial to her late husband at Runnymede, where King John accepted the Magna Carta in 1215.

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