| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Margret Howth: A Story of To-day by Rebecca Harding Davis: Holmes! Father! Now, ef yoh jes' hedn't hed yer supper?"
She came up, coaxingly. What brooding brown eyes the poor
cripple had! Not many years ago he would have sat down with the
two poor souls, and made a hearty meal of it: he had no heart for
such follies now.
Old Yare stood in the background, his hat in his hand, stooping
in his submissive negro fashion, with a frightened watch on
Holmes.
"Do you stay here, Lois?" he asked, kindly, turning his back on
the old man.
"On'y to bring his supper. I couldn't bide all night 'n th'
Margret Howth: A Story of To-day |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Beast in the Jungle by Henry James: even deeper import, so that there were aspects of the occasion that
gave it for Marcher much the air of the "look round," previous to a
sale highly advertised, that excites or quenches, as may be, the
dream of acquisition. The dream of acquisition at Weatherend would
have had to be wild indeed, and John Marcher found himself, among
such suggestions, disconcerted almost equally by the presence of
those who knew too much and by that of those who knew nothing. The
great rooms caused so much poetry and history to press upon him
that he needed some straying apart to feel in a proper relation
with them, though this impulse was not, as happened, like the
gloating of some of his companions, to be compared to the movements
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Travels with a Donkey in the Cevenne by Robert Louis Stevenson: was then standing, rises upwards of five thousand six hundred feet
above the sea, and in clear weather commands a view over all lower
Languedoc to the Mediterranean Sea. I have spoken with people who
either pretended or believed that they had seen, from the Pie de
Finiels, white ships sailing by Montpellier and Cette. Behind was
the upland northern country through which my way had lain, peopled
by a dull race, without wood, without much grandeur of hill-form,
and famous in the past for little beside wolves. But in front of
me, half veiled in sunny haze, lay a new Gevaudan, rich,
picturesque, illustrious for stirring events. Speaking largely, I
was in the Cevennes at Monastier, and during all my journey; but
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