Word: vag
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...Vag crossed Memorial Drive, he could see the last slimy traces of the winter's snow still melting in the gutter. But the sun was out and the banks of the Charles were once again strewn with people. In his hand Vag carried "The Dynamics of Political Polity," a big brown volume with many Latin quotations and algebraic equations. Vag lay down on the grass, opened his book, and started reading, following the words slowly with his index finger. Political polity, said the introduction, was a new science that would explain most of the events of the last three thousand...
...Vag had not been reading for long when a softball hit him squarely in the back. He coughed twice, muttered, "Kirkland House slobs," between his teeth, and cheerfully threw back the ball. One of the fellows, whom he had met in Cronin's a few days before, asked him to join them. "No. Big hour exam in political polity," said Vag. They started throwing the ball around, often narrowly missing Vag, who had lost track completely. He put down the book and lay back on the grass, thinking. Was it just possible that political polity could not explain absolutely everything...
...down on paper now, anyway, Vag sighed. When the people outside know the rotten pulp, the idolatry, the waste--that's worse, he thought, the awful waste, when they know what I have seen, they'll. . . . what? Say something constructive, Vag. Talk is cheap. Remember the Maine. Faith over...
...like a drab, a very scullion. Vag cried "ah vengeance" once to shake his mind from his thoughts. What a painful process this conscience is. I'll have to stop thinking. When I've been away from awhile I'll mellow, perhaps I'll even forget, said Vag...
After all, I am Vag, no getting around that. He looked down at the paper in his hands: "I Was a Student Vagabond." Vag laughed...