| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Memoir of Fleeming Jenkin by Robert Louis Stevenson: never thought him an actor, but he was something of a mimic, which
stood him in stead. Thus he had seen Got in Poirier; and his own
Poirier, when he came to play it, breathed meritoriously of the
model. The last part I saw him play was Triplet, and at first I
thought it promised well. But alas! the boys went for a holiday,
missed a train, and were not heard of at home till late at night.
Poor Fleeming, the man who never hesitated to give his sons a
chisel or a gun, or to send them abroad in a canoe or on a horse,
toiled all day at his rehearsal, growing hourly paler, Triplet
growing hourly less meritorious. And though the return of the
children, none the worse for their little adventure, brought the
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table by Oliver Wendell Holmes: either rich or rosy. Talk about military duty! What is that to
the warfare of a married maid-of-all-work, with the title of
mistress, and an American female constitution, which collapses just
in the middle third of life, and comes out vulcanized India-rubber,
if it happen to live through the period when health and strength
are most wanted?]
- Have I ever acted in private theatricals? Often. I have played
the part of the "Poor Gentleman," before a great many audiences, -
more, I trust, than I shall ever face again. I did not wear a
stage-costume, nor a wig, nor moustaches of burnt cork; but I was
placarded and announced as a public performer, and at the proper
The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Rise and Fall of Cesar Birotteau by Honore de Balzac: comparatively poor. He set a watch on the notary, wormed himself into
his confidence, was presented to la belle Hollandaise, made a study of
their relation to each other, and soon found that she threatened to
renounce her lover if he limited her luxuries. La belle Hollandaise
was one of those mad-cap women who care nothing as to where the money
comes from, or how it is obtained, and who are capable of giving a
ball with the gold obtained by a parricide. She never thought of the
morrow; for her the future was after dinner, and the end of the month
eternity, even if she had bills to pay. Du Tillet, delighted to have
found such a lever, exacted from la belle Hollandaise a promise that
she would love Roguin for thirty thousand francs a year instead of
Rise and Fall of Cesar Birotteau |
