| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe: doubts that. But as to putting them on any sort of equality with
us, you know, as if we could be compared, why, it's impossible!
Now, St. Clare really has talked to me as if keeping Mammy from
her husband was like keeping me from mine. There's no comparing
in this way. Mammy couldn't have the feelings that I should.
It's a different thing altogether,-- of course, it is,--and yet St.
Clare pretends not to see it. And just as if Mammy could love her
little dirty babies as I love Eva! Yet St. Clare once really and
soberly tried to persuade me that it was my duty, with my weak
health, and all I suffer, to let Mammy go back, and take somebody
else in her place. That was a little too much even for _me_ to bear.
Uncle Tom's Cabin |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Moll Flanders by Daniel Defoe: air, when I saw three gentlemen come by on horseback and go
into an inn just against us.
It was not to be concealed, nor was it so doubtful as to leave
me any room to question it, but the second of the three was
my Lancashire husband. I was frightened to death; I never
was in such a consternation in my life; I though I should have
sunk into the ground; my blood ran chill in my veins, and I
trembled as if I had been in a cold fit of ague. I say, there
was no room to question the truth of it; I knew his clothes, I
knew his horse, and I knew his face.
The first sensible reflect I made was, that my husband was
Moll Flanders |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Little Rivers by Henry van Dyke: the tangled thickets on the bank, instead of a pleasant two hours'
run on a swift current. We ate our dinner on a sandbank in what
was once the middle of a pretty pond; and entered, as the sun was
sinking, a narrow wooded gorge between the hills, completely filled
by a chain of small lakes, where travelling became easy and
pleasant. The steep shores, clothed with cedar and black spruce
and dark-blue fir-trees, rose sheer from the water; the passage
from lake to lake was a tiny rapid a few yards long, gurgling
through mossy rocks; at the foot of the chain there was a longer
rapid, with a portage beside it. We emerged from the dense bush
suddenly and found ourselves face to face with Lake Tchitagama.
|
