Word: vagabonders
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...Vagabond, all life is one great Reading Period in which to first with frivolity and dodge the unpleasant actualities. To him all life is a prelude to the possible disaster which may lurk around any approaching corner. By sad experience he now knows there is always an examination or some other cruel testing period impending which will inscribe an icy circle around his moon or draw a thick cloud over his sunset. Life for him does not strike with fury or with the suddenness of lightning. There is no swift piercing of the heart by savage arrow. Rather...
...rumbles tediously into full view, like a steamroller, blocks away. At once the Vagabond is aware of the menace, but it seems silly to be worried at so remote a doom. So he continues to flirt with frivolity, chasing his gaudy butterflies, granting full audience to every thought which whimpers: "Rest sleep, dream, doze--you are secure, you must not recover too quickly from the rigors of the holidays, you have ten days yet--rest, all will be well...
Suddenly he is aware of the steamroller again. Unhurriedly it has traversed the blocks, giving to all equal and fair opportunity to scramble to safety. Now it looms over him, and the Vagabond looks at it and does not move. he knows he could perhaps move his head and body out of the way by a frantic effort. But he also knows he is certain to lose a stray arm or leg under that inhuman pressure. Somehow it doesn't seem worth the trouble to him. Maybe it will stop. Maybe it will go away or melt like...
...forget that, he continued, and sit down. You will answer these questions as I ask them: name and address? occupation? name of each parent? Then he leaned forward. What are their ages? Realizing that this was an important question, the Vagabond only lied by seven years for the sake of his mother. Where were you born? The Vagabond responded: Hopeville. Oh, Hopeville, he said. Yes, the Vagabond said, Hopeville. Well, well, he commented...
...Vagabond closed the door of the doctor's office gently, his mouth puckered from his last glimpse of the secretary. He went home in a reflective mood and told his parents, in a voice that sounded like Baer speaking to Louis, he thought he would be gosh-darned if he would drive to Washington under the stigma of any accident policy...