| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Chronicles of the Canongate by Walter Scott: other; respectable, yet somewhat feeble, old age is placed on our
front; and all require those acts of politeness which ought to
put every degree upon a level at the convivial board. But have
we time--we the strong and active of the party--to perform the
duties of the table to the more retired and bashful, to whom
these little attentions are due? The lady should be pressed to
her chicken, the old man helped to his favourite and tender
slice, the child to his tart. But not a fraction of a minute
have we to bestow on any other person than ourselves; and the
PRUT-PRUT--TUT-TUT of the guard's discordant note summons us to
the coach, the weaker party having gone without their dinner, and
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from An International Episode by Henry James: "Oh, I see. And what is the name of--a-- the--a-- town?"
"It isn't a town," said Mr. Westgate, laughing. "It's a--well, what shall
I call it? It's a watering place. In short, it's Newport.
You'll see what it is. It's cool; that's the principal thing.
You will greatly oblige me by going down there and putting yourself
into the hands of Mrs. Westgate. It isn't perhaps for me to say it,
but you couldn't be in better hands. Also in those of her sister,
who is staying with her. She is very fond of Englishmen.
She thinks there is nothing like them."
"Mrs. Westgate or--a-- her sister?" asked Percy Beaumont modestly,
yet in the tone of an inquiring traveler.
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Life in the Iron-Mills by Rebecca Davis: pocket and read aloud some article, which they discussed
eagerly. At every sentence, Wolfe listened more and more like
a dumb, hopeless animal, with a duller, more stolid look
creeping over his face, glancing now and then at Mitchell,
marking acutely every smallest sign of refinement, then back to
himself, seeing as in a mirror his filthy body, his more stained
soul.
Never! He had no words for such a thought, but he knew now, in
all the sharpness of the bitter certainty, that between them
there was a great gulf never to be passed. Never!
The bell of the mills rang for midnight. Sunday morning had
Life in the Iron-Mills |
