This month marks the beginning of Howard Fitzpatrick's busy season -- not insofar as his duties as High Sheriff of Middlesex County are concerned but insofar as he owns Fitzpatrick Brothers, Inc., "Banquet Caterers to the Democratic Party." Every winter, testimonial fund-raising dinners are held in honor of aspiring Democratic politicians, and Howard Fitzpatrick is usually hired to provide the food.

Although there are no state elections ahead, this winter will still be busy for Sheriff Fitzpatrick. Last September, after losing the Democratic nomination for the U.S. Senate, Mayor John F. Collins indicated that he would not seek re-election in 1967. Since then, city councilors, school committee members, state representatives and other ambitious but minor Boston politicians have been thinking about running for Collins' job. Local political observers are watching closely to see which contenders actually call Howard Fitzpatrick, or his competitor, Stanley Blinstrub, about arranging a fund-raising dinner.

Boston School Committee Chairman Thomas S. Eisenstadt, who had his banquet last month in South Boston's Blinstrub's Village, is typical of most of the politicians who will have to resort to fund-raising dinners this year.

Eisenstadt, who is 30 years old and a lawyer, serves on the School Committee which is gradually being emasculated; it no longer controls its own budget and it no longer can pick school sites or construct school buildings. Most of its real power, like that of the City Council, has passed to the Mayor. Few people give serious attention to the members of the School Committee or the Council, primarily because they can do very little. Eisenstadt, to be sure, has a following but it exists only in his own neighborhood.

Nevertheless, Eisenstadt's fund-raising dinner was large and successful. The committee of friends which sponsored it used an interesting ploy to insure its success. A week or two before the dinner Eisenstadt sent out invitations to each Boston Public School. The letters revealed that a certain number of places at the banquet had been reserved for school department personnel from that building. The committee explained that it took such steps because it knew that the employees would want to take part in the "wonderful evening of entertainment" planned -- nearly all the tickets were sold.

A more astute politician would have sent some one around to sell the tickets rather than circulate such a potentially dangerous letter which could -- as happened in Eisenstadt's case -- reach the newspapers. But few people were upset by the tactics and it certainly is not the last time pressure will be brought to bear on people who deal financially with the city. Most of them expect to be touched a few times each year for testimonial dinner tickets before the elections. The surprising thing is that the dinners, which seem to be interminable affairs held in hot, smoky halls, are actually well-attended.

Mayor Collins, whose September remarks are responsible, in a sense, for the just-beginning flurry of dinners, may be secretly chuckling over the decisions of so many neighborhood politicians to seek his office. Collins has been considerably more circumspect about his future plans in the last month or so and seems to be acting more like a candidate recently. He may not have completely made up his mind, but it is to his advantage to have many other aspiring candidates believing that he is not running should he decide to campaign for re-election.

Were Collins' candidacy a known fact, other candidates might withdraw and enter the camps of stronger, more widely known anti-Collins candidates. But most of the lesser lights, frustrated by long, powerless years in the Council or the General Court, are unwilling to let what seems to be a golden opportunity go by.

No candidate likes to think of himself as a loser and most of the minor politicians delude themselves by imagining that their ability to pack a banquet hall is indicative of city-wide support. Likewise they imagine that the intense support and encouragement they receive in their own neighborhoods extends throughout the entire city. Collins must plan on polling poorly in each of the neighborhoods which produces an opponent for him, and, thus, he relies on only a few "safe" districts. But in 1963, the plurality that these districts gave him was enough to secure his renomination.

The chances of the small-time politicians aren't much good even if Collins doesn't run.

The voters who provided Collins with the mayoralty nomination in 1959, and 1963 are primarily lace curtain or wall-to-wall Irish, and they seek candidates whose conduct and demeanor flatter their own image. Should Collins be unwilling to run again they will probably give the nomination to someone else who closely fits their stereotype, like former Presidential Assistant Kenneth P. O. Donnell.

O'Donnell is perhaps aware of this and if Collins is really interested in re-election he might give some thought to announcing his candidacy before he finds out that O'Donnell has been over to see Sheriff Fitzpatrick.