For an Olympic gold medalist yachtsman of six years ago, the third-place bronze seemed a bit small, as did the 19-ft. Lightning he raced in the European Lightning Sailing Championships in his own home waters off Piraeus. Tanned and smiling, Greece's King Constantine, 26, had a casual rationale for being that far behind: "I haven't been training in Lightnings for the last two years." Besides, the King of the Hellenes had the satisfaction of presenting the winner's silver cup to a countryman, George Andreadis. Later, Constantine exchanged his striped boating shirt and sneakers for a more formal outfit, and rushed back to the royal summer home on Corfu to help the royal family celebrate the 20th birthday of his wife, Queen Anne-Marie. His birthday present? "A state secret," said the King.

The trustees of the Chicago Historical Society turned down Fan Dancer Sally Rand 23 years ago when she offered the famous ostrich plumes she had used at the 1933-34 Chicago World's Fair. Now, at 62, Sally is still fanning through the nightclub act that nearly turned the fair into a second Chicago fire, and evidently the trustees have grown nostalgic. They invited "Her Sexellency," as she is sometimes billed in the clubs, to donate the big 7-lb. fans to the society museum as "symbols of an era," and Sally saucily agreed. "Helps them keep abreast of the times," she reflected.

Taking up a domestic life of her own, Mrs. Pat Nugent, 19, set up housekeeping with her new husband in a cozy little duplex house in Austin, complete with automatic dishwasher, air conditioning, three closed-circuit television cameras to scan the yard outside, and a charming little cubicle in the carport for the Secret Service. As soon as Luci and Pat had stowed their luggage at home, they set off for the supermarket to load up on frozen pizzas, dill pickles, potato chips and other staples for the pantry. Pat whistled in disbelief when the checker rang up the inflationary tab: $30.13.

Sure, a lot of Molly's monologues in Ulysses are not for sodality teas, but the people filming the book in Dublin are not anxious to refight that long court battle of some 35 years ago about whether James Joyce's brilliant book was also unspeakably dirty. Nor do they wish to bowdlerize the bawdier passages reproduced in the script. So they've decided that when the film with its cast of English, Irish and Scottish stage actors is released simultaneously in 135 U.S. and 15 European cities next March, it will play for a mere three days to reserved-seat audiences --which ought to be enough, Executive Producer Walter Reade Jr. figures, to earn a reasonable profit on the $1,000,-000 investment. With such short exposure, says Reade, "the blue-nosed censors" will still be rubbing their eyes after the flash flood of consciousness has gone roaring by.

Fortunately, regal poise was possible on the dock at Karaj Dam lake northwest of Teheran, with Iran's Empress Farah Diba, 27, and Shah Mohammed Reza Pahlevi, 46, elegantly suited up like visiting Martian royalty. The Shah remained graceful on his water skis during the day's outing at a yacht club; but alas, the Empress, otherwise a natural athlete, was just one splash after another. It seems that in years past, while her husband was perfecting his slalom style on the Caspian Sea, Farah Diba had spent much of the time awaiting the birth of three heirs to the Peacock Throne. Now, as she wobbled off for repeated ignominious dunkings, Prince Reza, 6, and Princess Farahnaz, 4, sat on the beach and squealed in delight.

In a way, he does look like a natural starter, at least in Mississippi. With a pitching career record of 150 wins against 83 losses, a niche in baseball's Hall of Fame, and a drawling verbal delivery that comes across like a slow curve, the St. Louis Cardinals' Old Gashouse Gangster, Jay Hanna ("Dizzy") Dean, 55, was looking mighty good to some of the Mississippi political scouts searching for a candidate to oppose former Governor Ross Barnett in next year's gubernatorial election. Ole Diz is just plain folks, and his drawl is familiar across the state, what with all the baseball broadcasting he's been doing for the past 25 years. "I ain't makin' no statements," Diz allowed, "but there has been fellers and folks have been bothering me. I got two more months to make a decision."

The operation was particularly uncomfortable for an old song-and-dance man turned politician, but California's U.S. Senator George Murphy, 64, emerged smiling, if temporarily silent, from Hollywood General Hospital after an operation to remove a malignant tumor from his vocal cords. While his son Dennis assured reporters, "There's no chance of any more problems," Murphy flashed a note pad with a scrawled message: "Great. Had a good rest." The doctors think he ought to be back vocalizing on the Senate floor by next week.

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