| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Off on a Comet by Jules Verne: men to the reduct, whence the gun's mouth projected over a sloping embrasure.
The two officers, in cocked hats and full staff uniform, attended to take
charge of the proceedings. The gun was maneuvered in strict accordance
with the rules of "The Artilleryman's Manual," and the firing commenced.
Not unmindful of the warning he had received, the corporal was most careful
between each discharge to see that every vestige of fire was extinguished,
so as to prevent an untimely explosion while the men were reloading;
and accidents, such as so frequently mar public rejoicings,
were all happily avoided.
Much to the chagrin of both Colonel Murphy and Major Oliphant,
the effect of the salute fell altogether short of their anticipations.
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Rezanov by Gertrude Atherton: quick incisive brain was at work. "I should like to
stretch my legs over a horse for a week at a time,
and even to climb your highest mountains. You
may imagine how much exercise a man may get on
a vessel of two hundred and six tons, and it is
thirty-two days since I left Sitka. To look upon a
vast expanse of green--to say nothing of possible
sport--after a winter of incessant rain and impene-
trable forests--what a prospect! I beg you will take
me off into the wilderness as soon as possible."
"I promise you the Governor shall not withhold
 Rezanov |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Plain Tales from the Hills by Rudyard Kipling: "Say, is it dawn, is it dusk in thy Bower,
Thou whom I long for, who longest for me?
Oh be it night--be it--"
Here he fell over a little camel-colt that was sleeping in the Serai
where the horse-traders and the best of the blackguards from Central
Asia live; and, because he was very drunk indeed and the night was
dark, he could not rise again till I helped him. That was the
beginning of my acquaintance with McIntosh Jellaludin. When a
loafer, and drunk, sings The Song of the Bower, he must be worth
cultivating. He got off the camel's back and said, rather thickly:--
"I--I--I'm a bit screwed, but a dip in Loggerhead will put me right
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