| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Cavalry General by Xenophon: [10] Lit. "where to ride," i.e. in what formation whether on the line
of march or in action.
The above are fundamental matters not to be performed without the
active help of every trooper who would wish to be a zealous and
unhesitating fellow-worker with his officer.[11]
[11] Cf. "Hiero," vii. 2; "Cyrop." II. iv. 10.
III
I come at length to certain duties which devolve upon the general of
cavalry himself in person: and first and foremost, it concerns him to
obtain the favour of the gods by sacrifices in behalf of the state
cavalry; and in the next place to make the great procession at the
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Garden Party by Katherine Mansfield: write such a letter! What could have led up to it! It came out of
nothing. His last letter had been all about a fumed-oak bookcase he had
bought for "our" books, and a "natty little hall-stand" he had seen, "a
very neat affair with a carved owl on a bracket, holding three hat-brushes
in its claws." How she had smiled at that! So like a man to think one
needed three hat-brushes! "From the Listening Ear," sang the voices.
"Once again," said Miss Meadows. "But this time in parts. Still without
expression." "Fast! Ah, too Fast." With the gloom of the contraltos
added, one could scarcely help shuddering. "Fade the Roses of Pleasure."
Last time he had come to see her, Basil had worn a rose in his buttonhole.
How handsome he had looked in that bright blue suit, with that dark red
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Pierre Grassou by Honore de Balzac: commonplace minds and by troops of vanities athirst for vengeance.
As soon as he thought himself able to fly on his own wings, Fougeres
took a studio in the upper part of the rue des Martyrs, where he began
to delve his way. He made his first appearance in 1819. The first
picture he presented to the jury of the Exhibition at the Louvre
represented a village wedding rather laboriously copied from Greuze's
picture. It was rejected. When Fougeres heard of the fatal decision,
he did not fall into one of those fits of epileptic self-love to which
strong natures give themselves up, and which sometimes end in
challenges sent to the director or the secretary of the Museum, or
even by threats of assassination. Fougeres quietly fetched his canvas,
|
