News Item: "Porters to get flat rate of ten cents per parcel."
Vag staggered into South Station laden down with the necessities of his annual Spring fishing trip. Disposed clumsily and loosely about his person were two fishing rods, a tackle box, a landing net, a small overnight bag, and a fishskin-bound volume of Izaak Walton. Before running the gamut of redcaps waiting eagerly to receive him, Vag stopped to reflect. Six parcels meant he would have to pay the porter sixty cents -- a rather stiff assessment coming so soon after his last weekend in New York.
Solving the problem in a flash, Vag wrapped all his baggage in his reversible, tied the bundle up neatly with a bit of twine, and handed it to the first redcap. When they had reached his car, Vag was seized with a fit of remorse, and graciously handed the colored boy fifteen cents. The horrified porter, finding his protests to be of no avail, summoned a guard with "Anti-tipping Assistant" on his cap, and between them they persuaded Vag to take back his extra five cents -- all in bright new pennies.
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