Word: vagabonde
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...Vagabond climbed the last steps to his tower room. He was tired. He feared that he had strained something dedicating things. All he wanted to do now was to sleep. He opened the door and saw a black bottle standing on his early eliot gate-legged table. He approached the bottle. Maybe it was something to drink. Maybe it was Absorbine Junior. There was nothing at all about "After every meal. Two tablespoons for adults." so the Vagabond thought it could do him no harm. He drank...
...world grew black. The Vagabond thought several fine thoughts quickly in case he was one his way to Heaven...
...world steadied down again and the Vagabond opened his eyes. This must be Heaven, he thought. No place could be so exactly like Lowell House and not be. Even the bells were ringing. He looked down shyly to see how he looked in a nightgown and discovered instead a pair of creased pearl-striped trousers and a handsome expanse of grey vest. He looked inside of the coat he discovered he was also wearing and his happiness was complete. Browning, King and Co. was written in great letters on the lable. Just like the writing on the coat of many...
...this season of the year that the Vagabond first feels cramped and unhappy, feels a nostalgia which will completely overcome him late in February when there is no Yale game, no Christmas recess to break an unending monotony. When he thinks of snow covered firs, lakes bound in dark green shimmering ice, among the low rolling hills, and a certain Louis Seize drawing room where a joyful terrier momentarily basks before a crackling hickory fire, he wonders dimly how he will endure humdrum Cambridge till June. At this point in his cogitation he wanders absently to the punch bowl...
Perhaps Cambridge has its attractions. Sophomoric rhapsodists can find much amusement in professors who tread hats and coats and the self respect of students with equal lack of fooling. The moronic intelligentsia works off the escape complex in a celluloid dosage of Will Rogers. H. T. P., whom the Vagabond admires, can wax lyric over the spire of Memorial Church, can weight the Church and Widener in the balance and find them not wanting, and can borrow the better puns of his admirers. There are those who listen to the radio, even unto the weather report. But at present...