| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from A Modest Proposal by Jonathan Swift: to the world. I desire the reader will observe, that I calculate
my remedy for this one individual Kingdom of Ireland, and for no
other that ever was, is, or, I think, ever can be upon Earth.
Therefore let no man talk to me of other expedients: Of taxing
our absentees at five shillings a pound: Of using neither
cloaths, nor houshold furniture, except what is of our own growth
and manufacture: Of utterly rejecting the materials and
instruments that promote foreign luxury: Of curing the
expensiveness of pride, vanity, idleness, and gaming in our
women: Of introducing a vein of parsimony, prudence and
temperance: Of learning to love our country, wherein we differ
A Modest Proposal |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Trooper Peter Halket of Mashonaland by Olive Schreiner: not a beacon-light flaming across the earth? Ever a voice is behind my
shoulder, that whispers to me--'Why break your head against a stone wall?
Leave this work to the greater and larger men of your people; they who will
do it better than you can do it! Why break your heart when life could be
so fair to you?' But, oh my wife, the strong men are silent! and shall I
not speak, though I know my power is as nothing?'
"He laid his head upon his hands.
"And she said, 'I cannot understand you. When I come home and tell you
that this man drinks, or that that woman has got into trouble, you always
answer me, 'Wife, what business is it of ours if so be that we cannot help
them?' A little innocent gossip offends you; and you go to visit people
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Arizona Nights by Stewart Edward White: mighty hot and dusty. Texas Pete and his one lonesome water hole
shorely did a big business.
Late one afternoon me and Gentleman Tim was joggin' along above
Texas Pete's place. It was a tur'ble hot day--you had to prime
yourself to spit--and we was just gettin' back from drivin' some
beef up to the troops at Fort Huachuca. We was due to cross the
Emigrant Trail--she's wore in tur'ble deep--you can see the ruts
to-day. When we topped the rise we see a little old outfit just
makin' out to drag along.
It was one little schooner all by herself, drug along by two poor
old cavallos that couldn't have pulled my hat off. Their tongues
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