The Old Zamg

It could be true, as cantankerous Andrew Jackson Gillis kept insisting, that he was not the same old boy. "Bossy" Gillis still looked as seedy as Burpee's spring catalogue, and he fitted into the gentle, museum-piece decor of old Newburyport, Mass, like a prime bull at a vegetarians' convention. But the coming of middle age, a wife and a new black bowler had smoothed some of Bossy's sharp edges.

It had been 22 years since he burst into the city hall to punch the mayor of Newburyport flush on the mouth (60 days, said the judge). It had been 18 years since he talked about a formal bout of fisticuffs in Boston Garden to settle a grudge. The days when Bossy Gillis considered it fitting to decorate his roof with chamber pots and his bathroom plumbing fixtures with the names of political rivals were over.

All this--plus 23 other arrests and two other interludes in the clink--were behind him. After such escapades, Bossy, three times mayor of Newburyport, hadn't been able to be re-elected since 1935, though he had tried six times.

The new Bossy, reported Bossy in big newspaper ads in the Newburyport News, could act dignified and nice-like whenever the occasion demanded. His campaign for mayor, masterminded by his clever, forceful wife, was a model of restraint. Bossy limited himself to a few dainty attacks on Incumbent John M. Kelleher's spending policies. Last week when the townspeople voted, chunky Andrew Jackson Gillis, onetime sailor and roustabout, was elected mayor by 288 votes.

Elated over his comeback, Bossy immediately began planning some gentle, dignified changes. "I'm gonna bring some of the old zang back to Newburyport," he promised. "My first act will be to tear the police department apart and then fire the fire chief. I'm gonna give the highway department quite a shellacking and there are gonna be some new faces around city hall."

It sounded a lot like the old Bossy, and, to some extent, it was. "I'm getting rusty . . . I'm 53 now," explained Bossy, "but I'm still no diplomat."

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