|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Virginian by Owen Wister:
of hers in the river, and became filled with tyranny and
anticipation; for indeed he was fine to look upon. So she danced
away, carefully unaware of his existence.
"First lady, centre!" said her partner, reminding her of her
turn. "Have you forgotten how it goes since last time?"
Molly Wood did not forget again, but quadrilled with the most
"I see some new faces to-night," said she, presently.
"Yu' always do forget our poor faces," said her partner.
"Oh, no! There's a stranger now. Who is that black man?"
"Well--he's from Virginia, and he ain't allowin' he's black."
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Little Rivers by Henry van Dyke:
that gather in the corners below the falls. The matted flakes give
a grateful shelter from the sun, I fancy, and almost all game-fish
love to lie in the shade; but the chief reason why the onananiche
haunt the drifting white mass is because it is full of flies and
gnats, beaten down by the spray of the cataract, and sprinkled all
through the foam like plums in a cake. To this natural confection
the little salmon, lurking in his corner, plays the part of Jack
Horner all day long, and never wearies.
"See that belle brou down below there!" said Ferdinand, as we
scrambled over the huge rocks at the foot of the falls; "there
ought to be salmon there en masse." Yes, there were the sharp
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Tattine by Ruth Ogden [Mrs. Charles W. Ide]:
Philip the groom had been sent with the wagonette by the main road to Patrick
Kirk's--Patrick to bring the children and Philip to take charge of Barney, but
as the children were coming home, or rather trying to come home, by the ford,
of course they missed them.
All the while the storm was growing in violence, and suddenly for about five
minutes great hailstones came beating down till the lawn was fairly white with
them, and the panes of glass in the green-house roof at Oakdene cracked and
broke beneath them. "And those three blessed children are probably out in it
all," thought Tattine's Mother, standing pale and trembling at her window, and
watching the road which the wagonette would have to come. And then what did
she see but Barney, trotting bravely up the hill, with the geese still craning