| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Land of Footprints by Stewart Edward White: at all. He was hardly what you might call a strictly domestic
character. I have hunted through a country for several days at a
time without seeing a single mature buck of this species,
although there were plenty of does, in herds of ten to fifty,
with a few infants among them just sprouting horns. Then finally,
in some small grassy valley, I would come on the Men's Club.
There they were, ten, twenty, three dozen of them, having the
finest kind of an untramelled masculine time all by themselves.
Generally, however, I will say for them, they took care of their
own peoples. There would quite likely be one big old fellow, his
harem of varying numbers, and the younger subordinate bucks all
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Fantastic Fables by Ambrose Bierce: The Nightside of Character
A GIFTED and Honourable Editor, who by practice of his profession
had acquired wealth and distinction, applied to an Old Friend for
the hand of his daughter in marriage.
"With all my heart, and God bless you!" said the Old Friend,
grasping him by both hands. "It is a greater honour than I had
dared to hope for."
"I knew what your answer would be," replied the Gifted and
Honourable Editor. "And yet," he added, with a sly smile, "I feel
that I ought to give you as much knowledge of my character as I
possess. In this scrap-book is such testimony relating to my shady
Fantastic Fables |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Glimpses of the Moon by Edith Wharton: check her triumphant career?
"That's what I mean to find out!" he exclaimed.
His heart was beating with a tumult of new hopes and old
memories. The sight of his wife, so remote in mien and manner
from the world in which he had imagined her to be re-absorbed,
changed in a flash his own relation to life, and flung a mist of
unreality over all that he had been trying to think most solid
and tangible. Nothing now was substantial to him but the stones
of the street in which he stood, the front of the house which
hid her, the bell-handle he already felt in his grasp. He
started forward, and was halfway to the threshold when a private
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