The Vagabond

Vag put the finishing touches on his diagram of the digestive system and dumped his much-mutilated frog back into the jar of formalin. As he sauntered down the corridors of the Biology lab wondering how he would feel if he were the frog and somebody took out his digestive system, he stopped short suddenly and blinked. There, sitting placidly in the middle of the corridor, was a large white rat. Vag blinked again, and the rat blinked back. The situation was becoming a little embarrassing when the rat took matters into his own hands and scampered through a half-open door.

Through the open doorway Vag could see row upon row of small cages lined up around the wall. He followed his friend, the white rat, through the doorway, and found himself surrounded by rats and mice of all sizes and shapes, all looking at him through the wires of their cages and all squeaking vociferously. In one corner stood a be-spectacled gent in a smock. "Well?", he said coldly.

"I,--er, I just followed a rat in here," Vag said feebly.

"A hobby of yours?"

"Well--no. I just sort of dropped in to see what you were doing."

"Oh, you're my new laboratory assistant, then."

"Hub? Oh, yes, yes, I'm your new laboratory assistant."

And at that point the rat-man took Vag in hand, ushered him around the laboratory, and explained everything. "These rats we've just injected with paris green. Note the greenish tinges on the ears. And these over here we're breeding for mutation. Magnificent experiment! Just over this way I've just gotten some startling results with midget mice. Special mating, of course." Row after row they passed, row after row of mice and rats, all looking up at the Vag with pleading eyes. "Captivity," the Vag muttered darkly. "Slavery to Science. Suppression of the Masses." As the rat-man droned on, Evil Thoughts coursed through Vag's brain. Here were thousands, hundreds of thousands, of little hearts pulsing with desire for freedom, for life, liberty, and the pursuit of cheese. Yet this bestial rat-man this Scion of Authority, had shackled these bleeding hearts to his own selfish ends! All they needed was a leader, a Strong Man who would strike off their shackles, --and they would be free!

". . . and so you see that when we complete this experiment we will have conclusively shown that the midget female cannot produce spotted off spring after the second generation." There was a knock at the door. "If you'll excuse me, I think someone is waiting to see me," said the rat-man, and disappeared through the rows of cages.

"Now's your chance," a still, small voice whispered to the Vag. As if guided by some unseen hand, Vag began to open the cages one by one. Out jumped a mouse, then another; a rat, another rat,--out they jumped by the tens, by the hundreds, by the thousands! They milled and seethed and overflowed into the hall. Undaunted, Vag leaped to their van. "I am your leader!" he shouted to his rodent multitude. "Follow me!"

Suddenly Vag started. Someone was coming down the hall. It wouldn't do to be caught standing in the middle of the corridor staring at a vacant spot. So, trying to look nonchalant, he gathered himself together and stepped out into the dank, cold Cambridge spring, muttering, subversive sentiments unfit for tender ears.