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The Vagabond


The Vagabond is at Dora's today. Dora lives in a big brick building out Waverley way. There's a tall iron fence around the grounds and in the Spring time the flowers there are very pretty. But Dora doesn't like flowers; and like so many other things about Dora it is a pity. There are uniformed guards about the place seeing that no undesirables come in and those that are in don't get out.

Dora is really very pretty; so pretty and innocent that it's a pity to cast her pathetic story in cold lead. But it's all for her good and anyway today is her birthday. Isn't that right, Dora? No, you mustn't touch the candles. They burn. Burn! Don't you understand? It hurts.

Dora is quite different from other girls. She doesn't mind telling us how old she is. How old are you. Dora? You've forgotten again? Never mind. But keep your thumb out of your mouth. Dora is twenty-three. She has been here now nearly ten years. There has been some improvement. Now Dora can bathe herself and tie her shoes.

And here is Willy! And he's a fine looking man. But there he goes again pushing that toy car up and down the long corridor. He pushed it all day yesterday; he'll push it all day today. He calls his toy "Packward". It's his constant joy.

Willy is having a birthday too! The authorities tell us if we come tomorrow we could see Willy's play. And Willy is a fine actor. If only he could road! And how old are you, Willy? That's all right. Take your time. That's it! Willy is sixteen. There is considerable hope for him.

Back in the time of the Greeks Dora and Willy would at birth have been left to die from exposure. In the middle ages they might have been held in curious homage since there was a superstious belief that such cases were visitations of the gods.

Today we think we can help them. And the numerous institutions throughout the country bear witness to our hopes. The Vagabond today at 2 will take a strange journey to the Walter E. Fernald School in Waverley and learn more of such unfortunate cases.

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