| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Hellenica by Xenophon: out to meet him, the Lacedaemonian in turn set up a trophy on the
nearest group of islands.
[39] The Corcyraeans, Acarnanians, and Cephallenians join the alliance
B.C. 375; see Hicks, 83. "This decree dates from the autumn of
B.C. 375, immediately after Timotheos's visit to Korkyra (Xen.
'Hell.' V. iv. 64). The result was that the names of Korkyra,
Kephallenia, and Akarnania were inscribed upon the list (No. 81),
and an alliance was made with them." See "C. I. A." ii. p. 399
foll.; Hicks, loc. cit.; "Hell." VI. v. 23); "C. I. A." ii. 14.
The tablet is in the Asclepeian collection at the entrance of the
Acropolis at Athens. See Milchofer, "Die Museum Athens," 1881, p.
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Riverman by Stewart Edward White: Having thus in one swift decisive sentence covered the ground of
Orde's anxiety, he turned to the sniffling servant.
"Mary," said he sternly, "I'm ashamed of you! What kind of an
exhibition is this? Go out to the kitchen and cook us some lunch!"
He watched her depart with a humourous quirk to his thin lips.
"Fool Irish!" he said with a Scotchman's contempt. "I meant to head
you off before you got home, but I missed you. Come in and sit
down, and I'll tell you about it."
"You're quite sure Mrs. Orde is well?" insisted Orde.
"Absolutely. Never better. As well as you are."
"Where was she exposed?"
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Life in the Iron-Mills by Rebecca Davis: kindness from him? If anything like this were hidden beneath
the pale, bleared eyes, and dull, washed-out-looking face, no
one had ever taken the trouble to read its faint signs: not the
half-clothed furnace-tender, Wolfe, certainly. Yet he was kind
to her: it was his nature to be kind, even to the very rats
that swarmed in the cellar: kind to her in just the same way.
She knew that. And it might be that very knowledge had given to
her face its apathy and vacancy more than her low, torpid life.
One sees that dead, vacant look steal sometimes over the rarest,
finest of women's faces,--in the very midst, it may be, of their
warmest summer's day; and then one can guess at the secret of
Life in the Iron-Mills |
