| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Taras Bulba and Other Tales by Nikolai Vasilievich Gogol: but Ivan Nikiforovitch puts his box straight into your hand and merely
adds, "Do me the favour." Neither Ivan Ivanovitch nor Ivan
Nikiforovitch loves fleas; and therefore, neither Ivan Ivanovitch nor
Ivan Nikiforovitch will, on no account, admit a Jew with his wares,
without purchasing of him remedies against these insects, after having
first rated him well for belonging to the Hebrew faith.
But in spite of numerous dissimilarities, Ivan Ivanovitch and Ivan
Nikiforovitch are both very fine fellows.
CHAPTER II
FROM WHICH MAY BE SEEN WHENCE AROSE THE DISCUSSION BETWEEN
IVAN IVANOVITCH AND IVAN NIKIFOROVITCH
Taras Bulba and Other Tales |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Journey to the Center of the Earth by Jules Verne: if the league measures three miles. (Trans.)
CHAPTER XXXV.
AN ELECTRIC STORM
_Friday, August 21_. - On the morrow the magnificent geyser has
disappeared. The wind has risen, and has rapidly carried us away from
Axel Island. The roarings become lost in the distance.
The weather - if we may use that term - will change before long. The
atmosphere is charged with vapours, pervaded with the electricity
generated by the evaporation of saline waters. The clouds are sinking
lower, and assume an olive hue. The electric light can scarcely
penetrate through the dense curtain which has dropped over the
Journey to the Center of the Earth |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Glimpses of the Moon by Edith Wharton: had despatched to the perfect housekeeper whose permanent
presence enabled Mrs. Melrose to say: "Oh, when I'm sick of
everything I just rush off without warning to my little shanty
at Versailles, and live there all alone on scrambled eggs."
The perfect house-keeper had replied to Susy's enquiry: "Am
sure Mrs. Melrose most happy"; and Susy, without further
thought, had jumped into a Versailles train, and now stood in
the thin rain before the sphinx-guarded threshold of the
pavilion.
The revolving year had brought around the season at which Mrs.
Melrose's house might be convenient: no visitors were to be
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