| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Edingburgh Picturesque Notes by Robert Louis Stevenson: trap-stair that gives admittance to the dock in the
Justiciary Court. Many a foot that has gone up there
lightly enough, has been dead-heavy in the descent. Many
a man's life has been argued away from him during long
hours in the court above. But just now that tragic stage
is empty and silent like a church on a week-day, with the
bench all sheeted up and nothing moving but the sunbeams
on the wall. A little farther and you strike upon a
room, not empty like the rest, but crowded with
PRODUCTIONS from bygone criminal cases: a grim lumber:
lethal weapons, poisoned organs in a jar, a door with a
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Emerald City of Oz by L. Frank Baum: "Why, I gave him some sawdust brains the last time I fitted his head
with new ears," explained the Wizard. "The sawdust was made from hard
knots, and now the Sawhorse is able to think out any knotty problem he
meets with."
"I see," said Uncle Henry.
"I don't," remarked Aunt Em; but no one paid any attention
to this statement.
Before long they came to a stately building that stood upon a green
plain with handsome shade trees grouped here and there.
"What is that?" asked Uncle Henry.
"That," replied the Wizard, "is the Royal Athletic College of Oz,
The Emerald City of Oz |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Allan Quatermain by H. Rider Haggard: to my brother George, whom it deeply grieves me to think I shall
never see again, informing them, as our next heirs, that they
are welcome to our effects in England, if the Court of Probate
will allow them to take them {Endnote 22}, inasmuchas we have
made up our minds never to return to Europe. Indeed, it would
be impossible for us to leave Zu-Vendis even if we wished to do so.
The messenger who is to go -- and I wish him joy of his journey
-- is Alphonse. For a long while he has been wearied to death
of Zu-Vendis and its inhabitants. 'Oh, oui, c'est beau,' he
says, with an expressive shrug; 'mais je m'ennuie; ce n'est pas
chic.' Again, he complains dreadfully of the absence of cafes
Allan Quatermain |
