| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Tattine by Ruth Ogden [Mrs. Charles W. Ide]: friends in the crate, and the geese in the crate, wild to be out on the water
with their comrades, craned their long necks far out between the laths, and
set up a tremendous squawking. It was rather a comical situation, and the
children laughed till their sides ached, but after a while it ceased to be so
funny. The clouds were rolling up blacker, and there was an occasional flash
of lightning far off in the distance, but Barney stood still obdurate and
unmoved, simply revelling in the sensation of the cool water, running
down-stream against his four little donkey-legs. At last Rudolph was at his
wits' end, for what did Tattine and Mabel do but commence to cry. Great drops
of rain were falling now, and they COULD NOT BEAR THE THOUGHT of being mid-way
in that stream with the storm breaking right above their heads, and when
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from American Notes by Rudyard Kipling: records the fact, and asks in the next column whether the world
can parallel the progress of San Francisco. The American who
loves his country will tell you that this sort of thing is
confined to the lower classes. Just at present an ex-judge who
was sent to jail by another judge (upon my word I cannot tell
whether these titles mean anything) is breathing red-hot
vengeance against his enemy. The papers have interviewed both
parties, and confidently expect a fatal issue.
Now, let me draw breath and curse the negro waiter, and through
him the negro in service generally. He has been made a citizen
with a vote, consequently both political parties play with him.
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Call of the Wild by Jack London: returned to his kill and found a dozen wolverenes quarrelling over
the spoil, he scattered them like chaff; and those that fled left
two behind who would quarrel no more.
The blood-longing became stronger than ever before. He was a
killer, a thing that preyed, living on the things that lived,
unaided, alone, by virtue of his own strength and prowess,
surviving triumphantly in a hostile environment where only the
strong survived. Because of all this he became possessed of a
great pride in himself, which communicated itself like a contagion
to his physical being. It advertised itself in all his movements,
was apparent in the play of every muscle, spoke plainly as speech
|
