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Today's Stichomancy for Orson Welles

The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Tattine by Ruth Ogden [Mrs. Charles W. Ide]:

empty box she knew was there, and, taking it out of doors, she put the little rabbit in it, and then trudged down to the tool-house for her spade and rake.

"Bunny is dead, Joey," she called to the gardener's little boy as she came back. "Come help me bury him," and so Joey trotted behind her to the spot already selected. "We must make this hole good and deep," she explained (Joey stood looking on in wide-eyed wonder), "for if Doctor and Betsy would kill a little live rabbit, there is no telling but they would dig up a dead one." So the hole was made at least four inches deep, Bunny was buried in it, and the earth, with Joey's assistance, stamped down hard, but afterwards it was loosened somewhat to plant a little wild-wood plant atop of the tiny grave. "Now, Joey, you wait here till I go bring something for a tombstone," Tattine

The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Sportsman by Xenophon:

crossed by that of foxes.[11]

[6] Cf. Plut. "Q. Nat." 917 F, ap. Schneid.

[7] Cf. Theophr. "C. Pl." xix. 5, 6; xx. 4.

[8] Reading {to thermo}. Aristot. "Gen. An." iv. 10. Zeune cf. Plut. "Symp." iii. 10, 657. Macrob. "Sat." vii. 16; Athen. 276 E. Al. {to thermon}. See Lenz ad loc., "the moon, especially a full moon, dulls the heat (or odour) of the tracks."

[9] Cf. Poll. v. 67; ib. 66.

[10] "Playing with one another, in the rivalry of sport."

[11] Lit. "when foxes have gone through before."

Spring with its tempered mildness is the season to render the scent

The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Trooper Peter Halket of Mashonaland by Olive Schreiner:

not believe it any more. There is no God in Mashonaland."

"Oh, don't say that!" cried the Colonial, much distressed. "Are you going off your head, like poor Halket?"

"No; but there is no God," said the Englishman. He turned round on his shoulder, and said no more: and afterwards the Colonial went to sleep.

Before dawn the next morning the men had packed up the goods, and started.

By five o'clock the carts had filed away; the men rode or walked before and behind them; and the space where the camp had been was an empty circle; save for a few broken bottles and empty tins, and the stones about which the fires had been made, round which warm ashes yet lay.

Only under the little stunted tree, the Colonial and the Englishman were