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Today's Stichomancy for Sidney Poitier

The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Travels and Researches in South Africa by Dr. David Livingstone:

formerly alight@mercury.interpath.net). To assure a high quality text, the original was typed in (manually) twice and electronically compared. [Note on text: Italicized words or phrases are CAPITALIZED. Some obvious errors have been corrected.]

Missionary Travels and Researches in South Africa. Also called, Travels and Researches in South Africa; or, Journeys and Researches in South Africa. By David Livingstone [British (Scot) Missionary and Explorer--1813-1873.]

David Livingstone was born in Scotland, received his medical degree from the University of Glasgow, and was sent to South Africa by the London Missionary Society. Circumstances led him to try to meet

The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Sportsman by Xenophon:

through the general relaxation of their bodies.[13] In autumn scent lies clean, all the products of the soil by that time, if cultivable, being already garnered, or, if wild, withered away with age, so that the odours of various fruits are no longer a disturbing cause through blowing on to the line.[14] In winter, summer, and autumn, moreover, as opposed to spring, the trail of a hare lies for the most part in straight lines, but in the earlier season it is highly complicated, for the little creatures are perpetually coupling and particularly at this season, so that of necessity as they roam together for the purpose they make the line intricate as described.

[12] i.e. "with the scent into a composite and confusing whole."

The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Enoch Arden, &c. by Alfred Tennyson:

`O boy, tho' thou art young and proud, I see the place where thou wilt lie.

`The sands and yeasty surges mix In caves about the dreary bay, And on thy ribs the limpet sticks, And in thy heart the scrawl shall play.'

`Fool,' he answer'd, `death is sure To those that stay and those that roam, But I will nevermore endure To sit with empty hands at home.

`My mother clings about my neck,