| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Tarzan of the Apes by Edgar Rice Burroughs: nothin' to put on airs in this bloomin' company neither."
"You fellows dig here," said Snipes, indicating a spot beneath
the tree. "And while you're diggin', Peter kin be a-makin'
of a map of the location so's we kin find it again. You,
Tom, and Bill, take a couple more down and fetch up the chest."
"Wot are you a-goin' to do?" asked he of the previous
altercation. "Just boss?"
"Git busy there," growled Snipes. "You didn't think your
Cap'n was a-goin' to dig with a shovel, did you?"
The men all looked up angrily. None of them liked Snipes,
and this disagreeable show of authority since he had
Tarzan of the Apes |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Fisherman's Luck by Henry van Dyke: The shelter-hut on the bank is built of rough gray stones, and the
roof is leaky to the light as well as to the weather. But there are
two beds in it, one for my guide and one for me; and a practicable
fireplace, which is soon filled with a blaze of comfort. There is
also a random library of novels, which former fishermen have
thoughtfully left behind them. I like strong reading in the
wilderness. Give me a story with plenty of danger and wholesome
fighting in it,--"The Three Musketeers," or "Treasure Island," or
"The Afghan's Knife." Intricate studies of social dilemmas and
tales of mild philandering seem bloodless and insipid.
The trout in the Tarn of the Elk are large, undoubtedly, but they
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Goodness of St. Rocque and Other Stories by Alice Dunbar: To its banks at the end of Moss Street, one day there came a man
and a maiden. They were both tall and lithe and slender, with
the agility of youth and fire. He was the final concentration of
the essence of Spanish passion filtered into an American frame;
she, a repressed Southern exotic, trying to fit itself into the
niches of a modern civilisation. Truly, a fitting couple to seek
the bayou banks.
They climbed the levee that stretched a feeble check to waters
that seldom rise, and on the other side of the embankment, at the
brink of the river, she sat on a log, and impatiently pulled off
the little cap she wore. The skies were gray, heavy, overcast,
The Goodness of St. Rocque and Other Stories |
