| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Babbitt by Sinclair Lewis: line telling us just what you want, and if we can find it we'll come hopping
down your lane with the good tidings, and if we can't, we won't bother you. To
save your time, just fill out the blank enclosed. On request will also send
blank regarding store properties in Floral Heights, Silver Grove, Linton,
Bellevue, and all East Side residential districts.
Yours for service,
P.S.--Just a hint of some plums we can pick for you--some genuine bargains
that came in to-day:
SILVER GROVE.--Cute four-room California bungalow, a.m.i., garage, dandy shade
tree, swell neighborhood, handy car line. $3700, $780 down and balance
liberal, Babbitt-Thompson terms, cheaper than rent.
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Crowd by Gustave le Bon: deference to universal demands.[8]
[8] The report of the ex-Conventionist, Fourcroy, quoted by
Taine, is very clear on this point.
"What is everywhere seen with respect to the keeping of Sunday
and attendance at the churches proves that the majority of
Frenchmen desire to return to their old usages and that it is no
longer opportune to resist this natural tendency. . . . The
great majority of men stand in need of religion, public worship,
and priests. IT IS AN ERROR OF SOME MODERN PHILOSOPHERS, BY
WHICH I MYSELF HAVE BEEN LED AWAY, to believe in the possibility
of instruction being so general as to destroy religious
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from In a German Pension by Katherine Mansfield: moment he entirely forgot what was fitting, and flicked the keys with the
grimy table napkin he carried over his arm. The Frau Oberlehrer tripped on
the platform followed by a very young gentleman, who blew his nose twice
before he hurled his handkerchief into the bosom of the piano.
"Yes, I know you have no love for me,
And no forget-me-not.
No love, no heart, and no forget-me-not."
sang the Frau Oberlehrer, in a voice that seemed to issue from her
forgotten thimble and have nothing to do with her.
"Ach, how sweet, how delicate," we cried, clapping her soothingly. She
bowed as though to say, "Yes, isn't it?" and retired, the very young
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