| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Ozma of Oz by L. Frank Baum: from my readers, telling me just how they like "Ozma of Oz." I hope
so, anyway.
L. FRANK BAUM.
MACATAWA, 1907.
1. The Girl in the Chicken Coop
The wind blew hard and joggled the water of the ocean, sending ripples
across its surface. Then the wind pushed the edges of the ripples
until they became waves, and shoved the waves around until they became
billows. The billows rolled dreadfully high: higher even than the
tops of houses. Some of them, indeed, rolled as high as the tops of
tall trees, and seemed like mountains; and the gulfs between the great
Ozma of Oz |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Ion by Plato: 'winged and holy things' who have a touch of madness in their composition
(Phaedr.), and should be treated with every sort of respect (Republic), but
not allowed to live in a well-ordered state. Like the Statesmen in the
Meno, they have a divine instinct, but they are narrow and confused; they
do not attain to the clearness of ideas, or to the knowledge of poetry or
of any other art as a whole.
In the Protagoras the ancient poets are recognized by Protagoras himself as
the original sophists; and this family resemblance may be traced in the
Ion. The rhapsode belongs to the realm of imitation and of opinion: he
professes to have all knowledge, which is derived by him from Homer, just
as the sophist professes to have all wisdom, which is contained in his art
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Mountains by Stewart Edward White: "How are you?" said we.
"Howdy, boys," he roared. Roared is the accurate
expression. He was not a large man, and his hair
was sandy, and his eye mild blue. But undoubtedly
his kinsmen were dumb and he had as birthright the
voice for the entire family. It had been subsequently
developed in the shouting after the wild cattle of the
hills. Now his ordinary conversational tone was that
of the announcer at a circus. But his heart was good.
"Can we camp here?" we inquired.
"Sure thing," he bellowed. "Turn your horses
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