Word: vagabondism
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...Vagabond just made the dead-line with his copy last night, and it was only his stern sense of duty that makes it possible for his readers to peruse their favorite column this morning (courtesy of the Vagabond). He was many miles away, in the hither-flung regions of New Hampshire, to be exact, and was engrossed in taking a vacation. Business was a bit slack, so he wired his old friend, Dr. Hu Flung Huey, the able prognosticator, to come out of his mysterious retreat.... its whereabouts are known only to the Vagabond, his boon companion.... and off they...
...matter of fact, they didn't hit it off too well, and not for the first time. The Vagabond, looking at it fairly and squarely, without personal bias, as it were, is inclined to believe their differences were caused by incompatible vocations. For, whereas, the able Mr. Huey guesses at the outcome of sportive events and never goes to see them actually performed, this good columnist never attempts to outline in detail exactly what will take place, but rather hints at the subject matter and always attends. And furthermore he never permits himself any general observations on athletic combats...
Musing on the greensward was the Vagabond's contribution to world-thought yesterday. He was reclining on the grass in the Yard...oh, yes, he knows the yard cops and is a privileged character. In fact, the essence of his stream of consciousness was concerned with other privileged characters. To follow out the thought-associations it was like this...
June weather. Soon his proteges would be leaving the Cantabrigian shores for Home. A wave of sadness engulfed the Vagabond. He could see the shining faces of his school children on vacation. The tender charm of the parental hearth. And he was saddened by the reflection that he had no home other than Harvard. True it was a fine place but there was no denying a lack of homely atmosphere resplendent in the surroundings. No milk-bottles on the back-porch, for instance...
...passed on to the billiard balls. Of course, there are only two homes in the Yard...and the Vagabond has always made it a cardinal principle to lash the vice and space the name...