| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Adventure by Jack London: merit this?"
"You have presumed, you have dared--"
She choked and swallowed, and could not go on.
Sheldon looked the picture of despair.
"I confess my head is going around with it all," he said. "If you
could only be explicit."
"As explicit as you were when you told me that you would not permit
me to go to Guvutu?"
"But what's wrong with that?"
"But you have no right--no man has the right--to tell me what he
will permit or not permit. I'm too old to have a guardian, nor did
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from In a German Pension by Katherine Mansfield: would think of allowing a woman with such a wealth of hair to go wandering
in foreign countries? Now, supposing that you lost your purse at midnight
in a snowbound train in North Russia?"
"But I haven't the slightest intention--" I began.
"I don't say that you have. But when you said good-bye to your dear man I
am positive that you had no intention of coming here. My dear, I am a
woman of experience, and I know the world. While he is away you have a
fever in your blood. Your sad heart flies for comfort to these foreign
lands. At home you cannot bear the sight of that empty bed---it is like
widowhood. Since the death of my dear husband I have never known an hour's
peace."
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Life in the Iron-Mills by Rebecca Davis: unworthy. Who blames her? Something is lost in the passage of
every soul from one eternity to the other,--something pure and
beautiful, which might have been and was not: a hope, a talent,
a love, over which the soul mourns, like Esau deprived of his
birthright. What blame to the meek Quaker, if she took her lost
hope to make the hills of heaven more fair?
Nothing remains to tell that the poor Welsh puddler once lived,
but this figure of the mill-woman cut in korl. I have it here
in a corner of my library. I keep it hid behind a curtain,--it
is such a rough, ungainly thing. Yet there are about it
touches, grand sweeps of outline, that show a master's hand.
Life in the Iron-Mills |
