| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Mysterious Island by Jules Verne: the four species which are included in the family, and they were also of
the species of Tajacu, recognizable by their deep color and the absence of
those long teeth with which the mouths of their congeners are armed. These
peccaries generally live in herds, and it was probable that they abounded
in the woody parts of the island.
At any rate, they were eatable from head to foot, and Pencroft did not
ask more from them.
Towards the 15th of August, the state of the atmosphere was suddenly
moderated by the wind shifting to the northwest. The temperature rose some
degrees, and the accumulated vapor in the air was not long in resolving
into snow. All the island was covered with a sheet of white, and showed
The Mysterious Island |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from A Straight Deal by Owen Wister: when they were ordered out to kill him, they knew that he had struck in
self-defense and was the real victim.
It is too late to do much about it now. The good people of the Indian
Rights Association try to do something; but in spite of them, what little
harm can still be done is being done through dishonest Indian agents and
the mean machinery of politics. If you care to know more of the long, bad
story, there is a book by Helen Hunt Jackson, A Century of Dishonor; it
is not new. It assembles and sets forth what had been perpetrated up to
the time when it was written. A second volume could be added now.
I have dwelt upon this matter here for a very definite reason, closely
connected with my main purpose. It's a favorite trick of our anti-British
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Life in the Iron-Mills by Rebecca Davis: griped the filthy red shirt that clung, stiff with soot, about
him, and tore it savagely from his arm. The flesh beneath was
muddy with grease and ashes,--and the heart beneath that! And
the soul? God knows.
Then flashed before his vivid poetic sense the man who had left
him,--the pure face, the delicate, sinewy limbs, in harmony with
all he knew of beauty or truth. In his cloudy fancy he had
pictured a Something like this. He had found it in this
Mitchell, even when he idly scoffed at his pain: a Man all-
knowing, all-seeing, crowned by Nature, reigning,--the keen
glance of his eye falling like a sceptre on other men. And yet
Life in the Iron-Mills |
