| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Old Indian Legends by Zitkala-Sa: directly overhead.
The singing of birds filled the summer space between earth and
sky with sweet music. Again and again sang a yellow-breasted
birdie--"Koda Ni Dakota!" He insisted upon it. "Koda Ni Dakota!"
which was "Friend, you're a Dakota! Friend, you're a Dakota!"
Perchance the birdie meant the avenger with the magic arrow, for
there across the plain he strode. He was handsome in his paint and
feathers, proud with his great buckskin quiver on his back and a
long bow in his hand. Afar to an eastern camp of cone-shaped
teepees he was going. There over the Indian village hovered a
large red eagle threatening the safety of the people. Every
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Z. Marcas by Honore de Balzac: in. Put a cloth on the table, and the impromptu dinner sent in from
the best eating-house in the neighborhood--places for four--two of
them in petticoats--show a lithograph of this "Interior" to the
veriest bigot, and she will be bound to smile.
We thought only of amusing ourselves. The reason for our dissipation
lay in the most serious facts of the politics of the time. Juste and I
could not see any room for us in the two professions our parents
wished us to take up. There are a hundred doctors, a hundred lawyers,
for one that is wanted. The crowd is choking these two paths which are
supposed to lead to fortune, but which are merely two arenas; men kill
each other there, fighting, not indeed with swords or fire-arms, but
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Virginian by Owen Wister: beeves on the ranch," continued the Virginian. "The whole lot's
shipped through to Chicago in two sections over the Burlington.
The Judge is fighting the Elkhorn road." We passed slowly along
the two trains,--twenty cars, each car packed with huddled,
round-eyed, gazing steers. He examined to see if any animals were
down. "They ain't ate or drank anything to speak of," he said,
while the terrified brutes stared at us through their slats. "Not
since they struck the railroad they've not drank. Yu' might
suppose thence know somehow what they're travellin' to Chicago
for." And casually, always casually, he told me the rest. Judge
Henry could not spare his foreman away from the second gather of
The Virginian |
