| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Lesser Bourgeoisie by Honore de Balzac: remarkable article you were so good as to devote to Thuillier's
defence at the time his pamphlet was seized."
Etienne Lousteau bowed his thanks, and then said:
"The position of the paper is excellent; we can give it to you on easy
terms, for we were intending shortly to stop the publication."
"That is strange for a prosperous journal."
"On the contrary, it happens to be quite natural. The founders, who
were all representatives of the great leather interest, started this
paper for a special object. That object has been attained. The 'Echo
de la Bievre' has therefore become an effect without a cause. In such
a case, stockholders who don't like the tail end of matters, and are
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Betty Zane by Zane Grey: relentless Indian, but never a traitor, pointed to the small bloody hole in
the middle of Miller's forehead, and then nodded his head solemnly. The
wondering Indians stood aghast. Then with loud yells the braves ran to the
cornfield; they searched the laurel bushes. But they only discovered several
moccasin prints in the sand, and a puff of white smoke wafting away upon the
summer breeze.
CHAPTER XII.
Alfred Clarke lay between life and death. Miller's knife-thrust, although it
had made a deep and dangerous wound, had not pierced any vital part; the
amount of blood lost made Alfred's condition precarious. Indeed, he would not
have lived through that first day but for a wonderful vitality. Col. Zane's
Betty Zane |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from A Personal Record by Joseph Conrad: inside--nothing more. How quiet everything was at the end of the
quays on the last night on which I went out for a service cruise
as a guest of the Marseilles pilots! Not a footstep, except my
own, not a sigh, not a whispering echo of the usual revelry going
on in the narrow, unspeakable lanes of the Old Town reached my
ear--and suddenly, with a terrific jingling rattle of iron and
glass, the omnibus of the Jolliette on its last journey swung
around the corner of the dead wall which faces across the paved
road the characteristic angular mass of the Fort St. Jean. Three
horses trotted abreast, with the clatter of hoofs on the granite
setts, and the yellow, uproarious machine jolted violently behind
A Personal Record |
