| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Bickerstaff-Partridge Papers by Jonathan Swift: occasions; but, alack, he's gone the way of all flesh ---- Look,
look, look, cries a third, after a competent space of staring at
me, would not one think our neighbour the almanack-maker, was
crept out of his grave to take t'other peep at the stars in this
world, and shew how much he is improv'd in fortune-telling by
having taken a journey to the other?
Nay, the very reader, of our parish, a good sober, discreet
person, has sent two or three times for me to come and be buried
decently, or send him sufficient reasons to the contrary, if I
have been interr'd in any other parish, to produce my
certificate, as the act requires. My poor wife is almost run
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Young Forester by Zane Grey: shining out of the blackness. Masses of slow-moving smoke overhung the
brighter areas. The night robbed the forest fire of its fierceness and lent
it a kind of glory. The fire had ceased to move; it had spent its force,
run its race, and was now dying. But I could not forget what it had been,
what it had done. Thousands of acres of magnificent pines had perished. The
shade and color and beauty of that part of the forest had gone. The heart
of the great trees was now slowly rolling away in those dark, weird clouds
of smoke. I was sad for the loss and sick with fear for Dick and Hiram.
Herky must have known my mind.
"You needn't feel bad, kid. Thet's only a foothill or so of Penetier gone
up in smoke. An' Buell's sawmill went, too. It's almost a sure thing thet
The Young Forester |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Tales of the Klondyke by Jack London: there one of them with the straps to his back? And you would
teach us men our work? Look, I say!"
Another tremendous section of the glacier rumbled earthward. The
wind whipped in at the open doorway, bulging out the sides of the
tent till it swayed like a huge bladder at its guy ropes. The
smoke swirled about them, and the sleet drove sharply into their
flesh. Tommy pulled the flaps together hastily, and returned to
his tearful task at the fire-box. Dick Humphries threw the mended
pack straps into a corner and lighted his pipe. Even Molly was
for the moment persuaded.
"There's my clothes," she half-whimpered, the feminine for the
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