Word: vag
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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Nothing was more insufferable to Vag than the Sunday train ride back to Boston. He squinted through the frosted window, sighed dismally, and then the impossible happened. A pretty girl, a college girl, undoubtedly from Wellesley, took the vacant seat next to him. It happened just as Vag had always seen in the movies. He knew exactly what to do, for the scene had been rehearsed in his mind a thousand times before. Her baggage must be torn from her small hands and lifted to the rack above. Helplessly, Vag watched the red-cap go through the motions. Still, there...
From the mists of days long past comes a saga of weird and wild deeds. From father to son, for generation upon generation, the epic has been passed on until it has finally reached the Vag, who fells it his duty to give the saga the immortality of the Printed Page...
...Zvon booms forth on gloomy Sunday mornings, it will come to the Vag as a voice from the past, singing a mournful epitaph to Saradjeff and his Lost Cause...
...sooner had the Vagabond been shoved behind a pillar than the estimable Mr. Welles and Mr. Meredith appeared. Vag gave up all hopes of trying to reach the stage to ask a few of his erudite questions, as he would have been in shreds by the time he got there. Consequently, he became resigned and settled down to hear the proceedings...
This enlightening conversation was being conducted between the young the young lady on Vag's left and her robust little confidante on Vag's right. Vag was wet, he couldn't see, and now he couldn't even hear. He knew that if he didn't leave immediately, he would lose all control and commit the heinous offense of bashing together two female heads. Muttering insincere apologies, the Vagabond clambered over legs and seats and splashed his way to the nearest subway entrance...