| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Black Beauty by Anna Sewell: "Too smart-looking," said another, shaking his head in a very wise way;
"you'll find out something wrong one of these fine mornings,
or my name isn't Jones."
"Well," said Jerry pleasantly, "I suppose I need not find it out till it
finds me out, eh? And if so, I'll keep up my spirits a little longer."
Then there came up a broad-faced man, dressed in a great gray coat
with great gray cape and great white buttons, a gray hat,
and a blue comforter loosely tied round his neck; his hair was gray, too;
but he was a jolly-looking fellow, and the other men made way for him.
He looked me all over, as if he had been going to buy me;
and then straightening himself up with a grunt, he said,
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Snow Image by Nathaniel Hawthorne: while Echo caught up the notes, and intertwined them into a rich
and varied and elaborate harmony, of which the original performer
could lay claim to little share. The great hills played a concert
among themselves, each contributing a strain of airy sweetness.
Little Joe's face brightened at once.
"Dear father," cried he, skipping cheerily to and fro, "that
strange man is gone, and the sky and the mountains all seem glad
of it!"
"Yes," growled the lime-burner, with an oath, "but he has let the
fire go down, and no thanks to him if five hundred bushels of
lime are not spoiled. If I catch the fellow hereabouts again, I
The Snow Image |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Man in Lower Ten by Mary Roberts Rinehart: great crests of the Alleghanies had given way to low hills. At
intervals we passed smudges of gray white, no doubt in daytime
comfortable farms, which McKnight says is a good way of putting it,
the farms being a lot more comfortable than the people on them.
I was growing drowsy: the woman with the bronze hair and the
horrified face was fading in retrospect. It was colder, too, and
I turned with a shiver to go in. As I did so a bit of paper
fluttered into the air and settled on my sleeve, like a butterfly
on a gorgeous red and yellow blossom. I picked it up curiously
and glanced at it. It was part of a telegram that had been torn
into bits.
The Man in Lower Ten |
