| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from A Book of Remarkable Criminals by H. B. Irving: crime, tigerish certainly in its apparent ferocity. In a house
in Cumberland Street, a young married couple and their little
baby were cruelly murdered and un{sic}{an??} unsuccessful attempt
made to fire the scene of the crime.
About half-past six on Sunday morning a man of the name of Robb,
a carpenter, on getting out of bed, noticed smoke coming from the
house of a neighbor of his, Mr. J. M. Dewar, who occupied a small
one-floored cottage standing by itself in Cumberland Street, a
large and broad thoroughfare on the outskirts of the town.
Dewar was a butcher by trade, a young man, some eighteen
months married, and father of a baby girl. Robb, on seeing smoke
A Book of Remarkable Criminals |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Island of Doctor Moreau by H. G. Wells: concerning the loss of the "Lady Vain." As everyone knows,
she collided with a derelict when ten days out from Callao.
The longboat, with seven of the crew, was picked up eighteen days after
by H. M. gunboat "Myrtle," and the story of their terrible privations
has become quite as well known as the far more horrible "Medusa" case.
But I have to add to the published story of the "Lady Vain"
another, possibly as horrible and far stranger. It has hitherto
been supposed that the four men who were in the dingey perished,
but this is incorrect. I have the best of evidence for this assertion:
I was one of the four men.
But in the first place I must state that there never were four men
The Island of Doctor Moreau |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Moran of the Lady Letty by Frank Norris: To them it was evident she was but a for'mast hand. However,
Wilbur examined her with extraordinary interest as she sat in the
sternsheets, sullen, half-defiant, half-bewildered, and bereft of
speech.
She was not pretty--she was too tall for that--quite as tall as
Wilbur himself, and her skeleton was too massive. Her face was
red, and the glint of blue ice was in her eyes. Her eyelashes and
eyebrows, as well as the almost imperceptible down that edged her
cheek when she turned against the light, were blond almost to
whiteness. What beauty she had was of the fine, hardy Norse type.
Her hands were red and hard, and even beneath the coarse sleeve of
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