| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Nana, Miller's Daughter, Captain Burle, Death of Olivier Becaille by Emile Zola: the drawers of the sideboard in search of teaspoons, which were
lacking. Several groups were formed; people separated during supper
rejoined each other, and there was an interchange of glances, of
meaning laughter and of phrases which summed up recent situations.
"Ought not Monsieur Fauchery to come and lunch with us one of these
days, Auguste?" said Rose Mignon.
Mignon, who was toying with his watch chain, eyed the journalist for
a second or two with his severe glance. Rose was out of her senses.
As became a good manager, he would put a stop to such spendthrift
courses. In return for a notice, well and good, but afterward,
decidedly not. Nevertheless, as he was fully aware of his wife's
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from A Book of Remarkable Criminals by H. B. Irving: Aubert, their suspicions had fallen on the Fenayrous in
consequence of the request which Marin Fenayrou had made to the
commissary of police to aid him in the recovery from Aubert of
his wife's letters. But there had been nothing further in their
conduct to provoke suspicion. When, however, the body was dis-
covered and at the same time an anonymous letter received
denouncing the Fenayrous as the murderers of Aubert, the police
decided on their arrest. On the morning of June 8 M. Mace,
then head of the Detective Department, called at their house. He
found Fenayrou in a dressing-gown. This righteous avenger of his
wife's seduction denied his guilt, like any common criminal, but
A Book of Remarkable Criminals |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Enemies of Books by William Blades: passed on with the remark, "Oh, yes! they have black heads sometimes."
That was something to know--another fact for the entomologist;
for my little gentleman had a hard, shiny, white head,
and I never heard of a black-headed bookworm before or since.
Perhaps the great abundance of black-letter books in the Bodleian
may account for the variety. At any rate he was an Anobium.
I have been unmercifully "chaffed" for the absurd idea that a paper-eating
worm could be kept a prisoner in a paper box. Oh, these critics!
Your bookworm is a shy, lazy beast, and takes a day or two to recover
his appetite after being "evicted." Moreover, he knew his own dignity
better than to eat the "loaded" glazed shoddy note paper in which
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