| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Tom Grogan by F. Hopkinson Smith: been leased to the Fertilizing Company caused Crane to leave his
chair in a hurry, and ask his clerk in an angry voice if McGaw had
yet been paid the money on his chattel mortgage. When his cashier
showed him the stub of the check, dated two days before, Crane
slammed the door behind him, his teeth set tight, little puffs of
profanity escaping between the openings. As he walked with Tom to
the door, he said:--
"Send your papers up, Tom, I'll go bond any day in the year for
you, and for any amount; but I'll get even with McGaw for that lie
he told me about the dock, if it takes my bank account."
The annual hauling contract for the brewery, which had become an
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Wrecker by Stevenson & Osbourne: current of talk with some "Je trove que pore oon sontimong de
delicacy, Corot ...," or some "Pour moi Corot est le plou ...,"
and then, his little raft of French foundering at once, scramble
silently to shore again. He at least could understand; but to
Pinkerton, I think the noise, the wine, the sun, the shadows of
the leaves, and the esoteric glory of being seated at a foreign
festival, made up the whole available means of entertainment.
We sat down about half past eleven; I suppose it was two
when, some point arising and some particular picture being
instanced, an adjournment to the Louvre was proposed. I paid
the score, and in a moment we were trooping down the Rue de
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Merry Men by Robert Louis Stevenson: nameless vanishing. The four-and-twenty steps to the first floor
were four-and-twenty agonies.
On that first storey, the doors stood ajar, three of them like
three ambushes, shaking his nerves like the throats of cannon. He
could never again, he felt, be sufficiently immured and fortified
from men's observing eyes, he longed to be home, girt in by walls,
buried among bedclothes, and invisible to all but God. And at that
thought he wondered a little, recollecting tales of other murderers
and the fear they were said to entertain of heavenly avengers. It
was not so, at least, with him. He feared the laws of nature,
lest, in their callous and immutable procedure, they should
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