Word: vagabonder
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: all
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...Vagabond stirred uneasily in his cell in Mem Hall tower. What was this noise that broke in on his reverie? What bedlam dared intrude on his solitude? Outside, on Kirkland Street, on Broadway, on Mass Avenue the clatter of the American Railway Express, the long-distance moving vans and the less shiny, but far more serviceable vans of local concerns broke the silence of a dismal September...
...September, thought the Vagabond. And only a few short months ago he had mutely cursed those same vans that now deposited their trunks and bags throughout the widening reaches of the University. It was a cruel world. There always must be trucks. But the chilly drizzle continued and the Vagabond was again at peace with the world. For just as there must be trucks there must be a drizzle. A cold, cheerless persistent drizzle that left blankets damp in the evening and clothes clammy in the morning...
...Vagabond idled over the rail of bridge, concealed from the vulgar gaze by the gathering dusk and by the bulky base of the great salt-shaker pillar. The subway trains, momentarily elevated, flashed by, each square of light framing the back of a head, a neck and a pair of shoulders. Twelve minutes from the South Station, said the Rollo Book, in the misty past when the Vagabond made his first trip to Cambridge. As inaccurate as the catalogue estimates of laboratory hours. Twelve minutes to find the subway steps from the train concourse and twelve more underground totalled twenty...
...Vagabond made the faintest discernible motion to brush away a tear, but years of discipline asserted themselves. He braced up and adjusted his cowl about his shoulders, against the tiny suggestion of a Fall chill. Slowly he descended the steps to the water's edge, to the conceald spot under the graceful arch of the bridge that serves him in summer as an anchorite's cell, against the day when the ivory walls of Memorial Hall Tower would be brushed free of cobwebs and it for winter's occupancy...
...finale of his Nordland novels (Segelfoss Town, Vagabonds, August), The Road Leads On finishes what Author Hamsun has to say about the modern world. His summing up is not complimentary but it is stated with tolerant, sometimes uproarious humor. His hero is "that" August, vagabond, Jack-of-all-trades, "a man who had sailed the seven seas and who was rags both inside and out ... a man of splendid virtues and brazen faults." Old now, and temporarily a useful citizen because he has no money in his pocket. Hamsun's epitome of the modern spirit turns...