| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from On Horsemanship by Xenophon: the head and mane; as until the upper parts are clean, it is vain to
cleanse the lower; then, as regards the rest of the body, first brush
up the hair, by help of all the ordinary implements for cleansing, and
then beat out the dust, following the lie of the hair. The hair on the
spine (and dorsal region) ought not to be touched with any instrument
whatever; the hand alone should be used to rub and smooth it, and in
the direction of its natural growth, so as to preserve from injury
that part of the horse's back on which the rider sits.
The head should be drenched with water simply; for, being bony, if you
try to cleanse it with iron or wooden instruments injury may be
caused. So, too, the forelock should be merely wetted; the long hairs
On Horsemanship |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Albert Savarus by Honore de Balzac: The /Incroyable/, the /Merveilleux/, the /Elegant/, the three
successes of the /petit-maitre/ of discreditable etymology, have made
way for the "dandy" and the "lion." The /lion/ is not the parent of
the /lionne/. The /lionne/ is due to the famous song by Alfred de
Musset:
Avez vou vu dans Barcelone
. . . . . .
C'est ma maitresse et ma lionne.
There has been a fusion--or, if you prefer it, a confusion--of the two
words and the leading ideas. When an absurdity can amuse Paris, which
devours as many masterpieces as absurdities, the provinces can hardly
Albert Savarus |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Dreams by Olive Schreiner: gone?--it is cracked already. If you should ever climb this stair," they
said, "it will be your last. You will never climb another."
And he answered, "I know it!" and worked on.
The old, thin hands cut the stones ill and jaggedly, for the fingers were
stiff and bent. The beauty and the strength of the man was gone.
At last, an old, wizened, shrunken face looked out above the rocks. It saw
the eternal mountains rise with walls to the white clouds; but its work was
done.
The old hunter folded his tired hands and lay down by the precipice where
he had worked away his life. It was the sleeping time at last. Below him
over the valleys rolled the thick white mist. Once it broke; and through
|
