| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from A Footnote to History by Robert Louis Stevenson: since nobly redeemed. On the rest he was immovable; he had cast
the die, he had declared his candidacy, he had gone to Malie.
Thither, after his visit to Apia, he returned again; there he has
practically since resided.
Thus was created in the islands a situation, strange in the
beginning, and which, as its inner significance is developed,
becomes daily stranger to observe. On the one hand, Mataafa sits
in Malie, assumes a regal state, receives deputations, heads his
letters "Government of Samoa," tacitly treats the king as a co-
ordinate; and yet declares himself, and in many ways conducts
himself, as a law-abiding citizen. On the other, the white
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Lin McLean by Owen Wister: hastened toward his chosen companions through the stirring cheerfulness
of the season. His play-hour had made a dull beginning among the toys. He
had come upon people engaged in a pleasant game, and waited, shy and well
disposed, for some bidding to join, but they had gone on playing with
each other and left him out. And now he went along in a sort of hurry to
escape from that loneliness where his human promptings had been lodged
with him useless. Here was Cheyenne, full of holiday for sale, and he
with his pockets full of money to buy; and when he thought of Shorty, and
Chalkeye, and Dollar Bill, those dandies to hit a town with, he stepped
out with a brisk, false hope. It was with a mental hurrah and a foretaste
of a good time coming that he put on his town clothes, after shaving and
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Twice Told Tales by Nathaniel Hawthorne: been settled but about thirty years, the tracts of original
forest still bore no small proportion to the cultivated ground.
The autumn wind wandered among the branches, whirling away the
leaves from all except the pine-trees, and moaning as if it
lamented the desolation of which it was the instrument. The road
had penetrated the mass of woods that lay nearest to the town,
and was just emerging into an open space, when the traveller's
ears were saluted by a sound more mournful than even that of the
wind. It was like the wailing of someone in distress, and it
seemed to proceed from beneath a tall and lonely fir-tree, in the
centre of a cleared but uninclosed and uncultivated field. The
Twice Told Tales |
