| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Essays of Travel by Robert Louis Stevenson: sound of cannon in our ears; and now, a little past Franchard, we
find a mounted trooper holding a led horse, who brings the wagonette
to a stand. The artillery is practising in the Quadrilateral, it
appears; passage along the Route Ronde formally interdicted for the
moment. There is nothing for it but to draw up at the glaring cross-
roads and get down to make fun with the notorious Cocardon, the most
ungainly and ill-bred dog of all the ungainly and ill-bred dogs of
Barbizon, or clamber about the sandy banks. And meanwhile the
doctor, with sun umbrella, wide Panama, and patriarchal beard, is
busy wheedling and (for aught the rest of us know) bribing the too
facile sentry. His speech is smooth and dulcet, his manner dignified
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Stories From the Old Attic by Robert Harris: the daughter said, with a trace of a sigh.
"Good, children," their father replied, and he went off to place the
bets for them.
"Whom did you bet on, daddy?" the daughter asked when he returned.
"I bet on Outside Chance," he answered.
Soon the race started. The horses bolted from the gate and took off
at top speed. Looking Good looked good around the first turn.
"Yay, yay, yay!" the girl yelled, jumping up and down as the desire
of her heart moved forward. "I'm winning! I'm winning!"
"Patience, my child," said her father. "In horse racing, unlike in
life, we look only at the finish, not at the progress."
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Master of Ballantrae by Robert Louis Stevenson: "I will be the judge," said he. "I ask for facts. Was there, in
all that jargon, any word of truth or sanity? Do you hesitate?" he
asked. "Am I to understand you have buried this gentleman before?"
"Not buried," said I; and then, taking up courage at last, "Sir
William," said I, "unless I were to tell you a long story, which
much concerns a noble family (and myself not in the least), it
would be impossible to make this matter clear to you. Say the
word, and I will do it, right or wrong. And, at any rate, I will
say so much, that my lord is not so crazy as he seems. This is a
strange matter, into the tail of which you are unhappily drifted."
"I desire none of your secrets," replied Sir William; "but I will
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