| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Young Forester by Zane Grey: was a slender, dead limb. I slid down and got it, and, holding on with my
left arm and legs, I began to thrash the cub. He growled fiercely. snapped
at the stick, and began to back down.
"He's started!" I cried, in glee. "Go on, Cubby--down with you!"
Clumsy as he was, he made swift time. I was hard put to keep close to him.
I slipped down the trunk--holding on one instant and sliding down the next.
But below the fork it was harder for Cubby and easier for me. The branches
rather hindered his backward progress while they aided mine. Growling and
whining, with long claws ripping the bark, he went down. All of a sudden I
became aware of the old hunter threshing about under the tree.
"Hold on--not so fast!" he yelled.
The Young Forester |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Bucolics by Virgil: Soon as he saw me, "Hither haste," he cried,
"O Meliboeus! goat and kids are safe;
And, if you have an idle hour to spare,
Rest here beneath the shade. Hither the steers
Will through the meadows, of their own free will,
Untended come to drink. Here Mincius hath
With tender rushes rimmed his verdant banks,
And from yon sacred oak with busy hum
The bees are swarming." What was I to do?
No Phyllis or Alcippe left at home
Had I, to shelter my new-weaned lambs,
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Across The Plains by Robert Louis Stevenson: gulls. Such scenes are very similar in different climates; they
appear homely to the eyes of all; to me this was like a dozen spots
in Scotland. And yet the boats that ride in the haven are of
strange outlandish design; and, if you walk into the hamlet, you
will behold costumes and faces and hear a tongue that are
unfamiliar to the memory. The joss-stick burns, the opium pipe is
smoked, the floors are strewn with slips of coloured paper -
prayers, you would say, that had somehow missed their destination -
and a man guiding his upright pencil from right to left across the
sheet, writes home the news of Monterey to the Celestial Empire.
The woods and the Pacific rule between them the climate of this
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