"If I Was a Violinist . . ."

Gimbels' Bargain Basement looked festive. The counters were gone, the merchandise out of sight. Between the mirrored pillars long tables were set for midnight supper: hot dogs, doughnuts, popcorn, coffee. Some 750 New Yorkers were there to bid, with war bond pledges, on such precious items as Thomas Jefferson's Bible, a letter written by George Washington.

Glib, wild-haired Musicomedian Danny Kaye, working like a turkey gobbler, held up the auction's prize piece. It was not precious. It was a curio: Comic Jack Benny's violin, "Old Love In Bloom"--a $75 imitation Amati. Everyone present knew that only a war could have persuaded Benny to part with the old prop which had provided him with half his gags for the last 20 years. Before anyone could make a bid an attendant rushed up to Auctioneer Kaye with a letter. He opened it and gulped: "I have a bid for $1,000,000!"

That ended that. The stunned audience recovered in time to applaud. A solid, mild-mannered, aging gentleman in the rear of the basement rose and bowed. It was the first bow Julius Klorfein had ever taken.

Negligent newspaper reporters assumed that anyone who could afford that kind of money for a broken-down fiddle was a known man. They were wrong. The city-room files were bare of Julius Klorfein's name. At his penthouse apartment he apologized for this unfortunate anonymity: "I've just spent my life working hard and building up my cigar business, and I guess I didn't have any time to get in Who's Who or What's What or anything like that."

Julius Klorfein has been busy all his life. Now 58, he is president of Garcia Grande Cigars, Inc., manufacturers of some of the U.S.'s best-selling nickel and two-for-a-nickel smokes. He came to the U.S. from Russia 40-odd years ago and began turning out his own cigars in the window of a little street shop in Brooklyn. His formula for a mild, cheap cigar caught on. It bloomed into tobacco plantations in Connecticut, factories in the U.S., Cuba, Puerto Rico--all turning out millions of Garcia Grandes.

"My hobbies are work and finance," said Julius Klorfein. "I am active in Jewish charities and once I backed a Broadway show but it was a failure. That's about all there is to tell."

But there was more. Mr. Klorfein had an afterthought: "My wife bought some bonds at the Gimbel party, too. How much was it, dearest?" She said it was only $175,000 worth, but "of course, I've been buying war bonds all along."

The occasion of Julius Klorfein's purchase was not unpremeditated. A perceptive young woman named Edna Skinner, actress, radio commentator, fashion model, now a member of the A.W.V.S., heard that Mr. Klorfein had bought $500,000 worth of war bonds recently during a trip to Florida. She thought it would be fine if he could double that in Gimbels' Bargain Basement. Julius Klorfein agreed.

Fondling the fiddle which had brought him momentary fame, he was asked whether he could play it. Said Julius Klorfein: "If I was a violinist, I wouldn't be able to buy a million dollars worth of war bonds."

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