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Today's Stichomancy for Karl Rove

The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Tom Grogan by F. Hopkinson Smith:

with his fingers--greasy, jet-black hair, worn long, as befitted his position,--"this is not a question of sympathy, but a question of law. Your honorable boord advertoised some time since for certain supplies needed for the growth and development of this most important of the villages of Staten Island. In this call it was most positively and clearly stated that the contract was to be awarded to the lowest risponsible bidder who gave the proper bonds. Two risponses were made to this call, wan by Mrs. Grogan, acting on behalf of her husband,--well known to be a hopeless cripple in wan of the many charitable institootions of our noble State,--and the other by our distinguished fellow-townsman, Mr.

The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Story of an African Farm by Olive Schreiner:

of his wife's who was not fat, and who had a mole, and of whom his wife had always been jealous, and he wished the little baby had liked better staying in heaven than coming and standing over the wagon-chest.

"I suppose that's why you came to me," said Tant Sannie.

"Yes, aunt. And pa said I ought to get married before shearing-time. It is bad if there's no one to see after things then; and the maids waste such a lot of fat."

"When do you want to get married?"

"Next month, aunt," said the young man in a tone of hopeless resignation. "May I kiss you, aunt?"

"Fie! fie!" said Tant Sannie, and then gave him a resounding kiss. Come,

The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Phantasmagoria and Other Poems by Lewis Carroll:

The whisper left him - like a breeze Lost in the depths of leafy trees - Left him by no means at his ease.

Once more he weltered in despair, With hands, through denser-matted hair, More tightly clenched than then they were.

When, bathed in Dawn of living red, Majestic frowned the mountain head, "Tell me my fault," was all he said.

When, at high Noon, the blazing sky Scorched in his head each haggard eye,