| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Puck of Pook's Hill by Rudyard Kipling: "'I do not like lies on an empty stomach," said
Pertinax. "I suppose" (he had eyes like an eagle's) - "I
suppose that is a trading-station also?" He pointed to a
smoke far off on a hill-top, ascending in what we call the
Picts' Call: - Puff - double-puff: double-puff - puff! They
make it by raising and dropping a wet hide on a fire.
"'No," said Allo, pushing the platter back into the bag.
"That is for you and me. Your fate is fixed. Come."
'We came. When one takes Heather, one must obey
one's Pict - but that wretched smoke was twenty miles
distant, well over on the East coast, and the day was as
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from When a Man Marries by Mary Roberts Rinehart: Mr. Harbison came up the stairs again two at a time.
"How long has that Jap been ailing, Mrs. Wilson?" he asked.
"I--I don't know," I replied helplessly. "What is the trouble,
anyhow?"
"I think he probably has something contagious," he said, "and it
has scared the servants away. As Mr. Brown said, he looked
spotty. I suggested to your husband that it might be as well to
get the house emptied--in case we are correct."
"Oh, yes, by all means," I said eagerly. I couldn't get away too
soon. "I'll go and get my--" Then I stopped. Why, the man
wouldn't expect me to leave; I would have to play out the
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Voice of the City by O. Henry: the homeward drive to the mule alone did he confide
in language the inwardness of his thoughts.
They drove homeward. The low sun dropped a
spendthrift flood of gold upon the fortunate fields of
wheat. The cities were far away. The road lay curl-
ing around wood and dale and bill like a ribbon lost
from the robe of careless summer. The wind followed
like a whinnying colt in the track of Phoebus's steeds.
By and by the farmhouse peeped gray out of its
faithful grove; they saw the long lane with its convoy
of walnut trees running from the road to the house;
The Voice of the City |
