| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from War of the Worlds by H. G. Wells: About five o'clock the gathering crowd in the station was
immensely excited by the opening of the line of communica-
tion, which is almost invariably closed, between the South-
Eastern and the South-Western stations, and the passage of
carriage trucks bearing huge guns and carriages crammed
with soldiers. These were the guns that were brought up
from Woolwich and Chatham to cover Kingston. There was
an exchange of pleasantries: "You'll get eaten!" "We're the
beast-tamers!" and so forth. A little while after that a squad
of police came into the station and began to clear the public off
the platforms, and my brother went out into the street again.
War of the Worlds |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Tattine by Ruth Ogden [Mrs. Charles W. Ide]: cry seems to come from. Then I am going to tie Betsy to this pillar of the
porch, and I believe she'll have sense enough to try and coax the little
fellow out, and if the is such an enterprising little chap as you think he'll
have sense enough to come out."
It seemed a good plan. Betsy was brought, and Tattine sat down to listen and
watch. Betsy, hearing the little cries, began at once to coax, giving little
sharp barks at regular intervals, and trying to make the hole larger with her
paws.
Tattine's ears, which were dear little shells of ears to look at, and very
sharp little ears to hear with, thought the cries sounded a little nearer, and
now a little nearer; then she was sure of it, and Betsy and she, both growing
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Westward Ho! by Charles Kingsley: speech as an impertinent interference with each man's right to make
a fool of himself; and Mr. Coffin, who had sat quietly bolt
upright, and looking at the opposite wall, now rose as quietly, and
with a face which tried to look utterly unconcerned, was walking
out of the room: another minute, and Lady Bath's prophecy about the
feast of the Lapithae might have come true.
But Frank's heart and head never failed him.
"Mr. Coffin!" said he, in a tone which compelled that gentleman to
turn round, and so brought him under the power of a face which none
could have beheld for five minutes and borne malice, so imploring,
tender, earnest was it. "My dear Mr. Coffin! If my earnestness
|
