Gigolos Licensed

Gloom, distress and shame descended, last week, upon the sleek, waxen faced, bandolined and faintly perfumed gigolos of Paris.

These young men have been accustomed to consider themselves superior to their female counterparts. But Prefect of Police Jean Chiappe has now sternly ruled that each gigolo must obtain a license and carry an identity card exactly similar to those issued to common prostitutes.

Though the precise origin of the noun gigolo (zhi-go-lo) is obscure, it probably derives from the verb gigotter "to kick about," the adjective gigotte "strong sinewed'' and the noun gigots "legs," or "shanks."

Particularly gigotte and appetizing was a gigolo who recently invited a bejeweled Manhattan matron, one Mrs. Josephine Neumann, 55, to ride with him in the forest of St. Germain-en-Laye. The gigolo said he had sold an automobile to Mr. Neumann. Perhaps Mrs. Neumann also would like to purchase an automobile. Together they drove to St. Germain. Then in a solitary, romantic spot the gigolo suddenly stopped the car. But he made no romantic overtures. Instead, he brusquely demanded all her jewels and money. Mrs. Neumann refused. The gigolo grasped her throat, snatched her rings and pocketbook, tore her clothes, beat her, threw her out of the automobile. As Mrs. Neumann started to walk back to Paris she distinctly heard a laugh as the gigolo's automobile disappeared in the shade of the St. Germain woods.

Not only a gigolo but also a thief, is a handsome one-eyed Serb, Djoritch Milan, who admitted to Paris police that he had stolen jewels from the Paris residence of Mrs. William Kissam Vanderbilt. From Mrs. Vanderbilt's home Milan took an emerald worth $40,000, several other jewels of lesser value, one imitation pearl necklace, thirteen miniatures, three raw eggs. Milan insulted the Paris gendarmes who captured him, boasted that he was leader of a gang of Serbian thieves.