My Playlist


MusicPlaylistView Profile
Create a playlist at MixPod.com

Thursday, 23 June 2011

Keys Locks And Open Doors

"Quiet the dog, house the pony and bar the doors against the dark." Each night we heard and obeyed Pa's telling and each morning we woke safe, forgetting the terrors of the night in the new sun's warm shine and our breakfast bread. Then Ma sickened bad and Pa carted her to Biddy Makepeace's for a laying on of hands. "Remember," he instructed Rory, "Be sure and lock up tight come nightfall." "I promise faithful Pa," I heard my oldest brother say. But come the dark he was out sparking Lucy Lovedance and Sim was left in charge. And Sim paid no heed to tellings. "Waste of time, locking every door. Sick of pissing in pee-pots, me. And double sick of cleaning them each morn." I begged him do as our father said, but he only laughed, did Sim. So I took the bairns to bed with me, making certain sure my door was locked and the shutters firmly barred. And in the morning on rising to oven the bread I found the outer door wide open and no sight nor sign of Sim. When Rory rolled in lazy eyed and rough I told him all and he went in search. Was still out when Pa 'rived home at noon. I recounted Pa the tale and he heard me out grim faced, but shook his head when I asked if he was going hunting for our Sim. "No point," he said. "Now get the dinner served." Rory came back as we were finishing the stew. Pa cuffed him hard about the head and wouldn't let him speak or eat the portion I'd kept by. Then Pa coughed and cleared his throat, and when we looked at him he told us Ma had died with the sinking of the day. Padre Filton had her resting in the church, he said, to be dug in on the morrow. Then he handed me the ring of household keys. And Rory watched all squint eyed and pinched, knowing that by rights as eldest they should have passed to him. I held on to the keys, my two hands fighting the cold heavy weight that tried to drag them to the beaten earth. And as I clutched them so I studied them. I saw that each key large or small was welded firmly to the iron circlet. I held there in my hands the keys to every chest and every door within Pa's holding. They were my responsibility till Father relieved me of the charge. I was now the guardian, he said, seeing as I had a mind to keep the young 'uns safe and obey his words full strength, unlike some who should know better.
<>
At first light Pa stowed the spades and lifted the girls into the cart. May took charge of the reins while me and Pa and Rory walked holding to the sides. When we reached the graveyard me and Pa and Rory took turns to open up the flinty ground while the bairns ranged about for pretties to place inside the grave. Then Pa and Padre placed her in. Padre said the binding words, my three sisters mewling and moaning and dropping in daisy buds onto the muslin shroud. Then my brother and I filled back the gritty soil and watched Pa and Padre Filton lay the blessed ironstone slab athwart her lying place to keep her safe. And when it was all done and Pa had paid the burial toll we set out straight for home. This time Eve and Silence held the reins and all else walked to save the ageing mule. Once home I warmed the stew pot and we ate. After food Pa and Rory worked the land while I, with my sisters' help, cleaned and sewed and baked. At day's end Pa watched to see how I locked the doors and shutters against the coming of the night and nodded satisfied when I had it done. And that night with the keys hard beneath my thin flock pillow, I heard the voices clearly for the first time. They sounded loud and plain outside my shuttered window abegging me to open up and come to them. And one of the voices was my brother Sim's. Another sounded lighter, like my Ma's. But mindful of my father's words I held to the keys and kept the shutters barred. And gradually the voices drifted quiet and sleep took me down. And ever after it was as if Ma and Sim had never been. Pa never spoke of them and turned aside all questions and he never spoke again to Rory save for yes and no. After a month of this silence Rory left to marry Lucy Makepeace and spend his strength in her father's flourmill. I watched Pa's face set harder, carven lines of wrinkles digging valley's in his leathered skin and I went outside all day to take my brother's work-share then cooked and baked all eve. My sister May took duty for the house and twins all day.
<>
From the very time that Rory left our home Pa shifted all his custom to Marlin's mill. Though being over in the next valley it was a longer trek to take the grain and the mule was far from strong. For me, most nights, the voices came; the voices Pa said were only in my head. He gave me quintain boiled in honey to make me sleep but the taste was harsh and cast a dullness over me the following day. But I pretended to drink to keep from causing strife. And my questions grew, filling my brain to bursting point till at last I took my thoughts to Padre Filton in the secrecy of Disclosing Hour. He refused to look me in the eye and talked of devils and temptations. Then he broke the holy pact and betrayed the questions to my Pa. And Pa bound my mouth with garlic cloth and he beat me till my skin was bruised and split and snatched back the keys till I could walk again. And with the keys in Pa's hands I found that I slept quiet, nights. I heard no sounds, quested not for dimly recognised voices, but only slept soft sleep. When I was fit again he gave me back my guardianship of the keys and the first night I slept upon their bulk I heard scratchings at my wooden shutters and the moaning of what might have been the wind. At first light on going to the running spring to cleanse my chamber pot I walked the long way round, past my chamber window and saw score marks bit deep into the ebony-wood shutters. I felt the chill of night come on me despite the warming of the sun. But I kept my counsel and Pa had replaced the wood by noon. That night I kept the dog inside my room, putting him at the foot of my bed. And though I heard a lone voice keening and crying out my name the dog he didn't stir. The weeks turned and I learned to sleep with stopping in my ears. May and the bairns cast off their childhood with frightening speed and Pa rarely spoke outside the meeting house and took to reading sermon books. But I would not go to meetings any more and Pa ignored my backsliding. As long as I did my work and kept safety on my mind he seemed satisfied.
<>
Then Widow Range took sick. She and her daughter lived a scant two fields away from us and Tildy asked my help to nurse her and Pa said I was to go. So I gave him back the keys and went to sit with Tildy. But like my Ma the widow sank fast and died swift as the sun did sink. Tildy begged for me to go to church with her and stand vigil till the morn and I went with her and Padre Filton into the church as night fell down upon us. That long night passed in dull-dead numbing coldness. I heard no outside sounds, no moans no skirl of wind but only the praying padre thanking his god for the ironwood and ironstone that kept us safe from harm. We buried Widow Range, like Ma, soon as we could when the sun had risen above the mountains. Me and Tildy did the digging but it took all three of us to drag the heavy holding stone across the grave. Padre wore his leather gauntlets but me and Tildy had to do without, and sore rough bleeding work it was. But still he took the full toll into his strong-gloved hands when the burial was done. He then took us in his wagon and dropped us to our homes as he went on his praying rounds. And that night with the keys once again beneath my head I heard voices calling in the dark and the loudest one sounded like the Widow Range. I took care to go to Meeting with Pa and the bairns the next meeting morn but left the service before time, pleading my bowels. I walked then to Widow Range's grave and saw her capping stone was out of line. I'd helped lay it and knew full well it was not the same. And now, tonight, I sit and wait the voices. My shutters are opened wide, my bedroom door unlocked, my binding keys thrown deep within the spring. The house is open to what may come and I am also ready. I will heed this call. I will leave the confines of my father's house and join that which waits outside. And as I go I call to the bairns, my sisters, to come and join the free.

Tuesday, 14 June 2011

QUIZ!!!!

Juz finished my Physics Quiz yesterday and i somehow not sure about the answer for the last question... ZZZ... a bit confusing as i dont know which formula to use.... Meanwhile, Pre-Calculus had finished today... Too easy i would say but nothing is guaranteed until the scores have been confirmed.... Well Done for the Quizzes! =)

爸爸,請回家

這是艷陽高照的好天氣,窗外的陽光靜靜地篩進來,這麼美好的一天,我們可以談的可以是爬山、遊泳或到郊外踏青,但這10歲的孩子卻告訴我一個嚴肅的話題:“老師,為甚麼我爸爸還不願回家?”
然後,男孩開始責罵那不讓父親回家的女人:“老師,我多麼生氣,她不是好女人,不讓爸爸回家。”我不能置信地望著眼前的男孩,屬於成人複雜的恩怨情仇,他懂多少了呢?
自從有外遇,男孩的父親刻意與他保持距離,唯有在距離里,他才不需要負任何責任,甚至可以不聞不問。

“或者,你可以打電話給爸爸,請他回家。”我向男孩建議。

“我有,但爸爸好像故意不聽我電話。”男孩沮喪地說。

不知為甚麼,看到男孩哀愁的眼神時,我很傷痛,並很想替男孩打電話給他的爸爸,誠懇地請他回家,哪怕是陪男孩談談天,下下棋或者吃一頓飯。

或者是看到太多流淚的孩子,又或者看到太多家庭悲劇,我一直對婚姻的第三者,存有太多不諒解,他們或者無法理解自己的介入,對一個家或對小孩構成的傷害。我無法認同婚外的兩情相悅,正如我無法認同女人拉著一個有家室的男人,千方百計地不讓他回家。

老師,爸爸會回心轉意嗎?

常常,這男孩的小事被我提起,記著,他會感到被理解,並輕輕地附在老師耳邊笑著說:“以前,爸爸也是這樣說我。”男孩一直想從回憶中,把以前的好爸爸拼湊出來。

“儘管爸爸暫時出走,他其實還是我的好爸爸。”

這久長的歲月,我一直從孩童的身上,學到許多寶貴的東西,他們好像常擁抱著希望,希望多得像綻滿天空的星星,因此,我知道這孩子的希望是父親可以回家。

這孩子其實已打開溫暖的家門,迎接一個肯回家的父親。

“老師,爸爸會回心轉意嗎?”男孩突然問我。

我其實可以用更婉轉的說法,讓男孩放棄對父親回家的希望。

但是,我沒有,我告訴他:“會的。”對不可預知卻充滿可能性的未來,父親肯回到家,其實是可能的。
男孩的嘴角有了笑意,為著老師的話,也為著那希望。

其實,老師和他同樣抱著一個希望:希望他的爸爸早日回家。

我很疼愛這男孩,因此,每當我看到這孩子眼裡的淚水時,我都有一個衝動,想為我根本不認識的男女打一通電話,我想告訴那或者以為自己在愛著的女人:“請把父親和丈夫還給別人。”然後,我也想告訴那父親:“請你把幸福還給你家庭。”

愛情是不是叫人太迷惘,不計後果的深情一往,許多時候是讓我們失去,多於獲得。至少,從男孩的哭訴中,我知道他失去一個叫父親的男人。

(星洲日報/副刊‧文:關悅涓)

我很生氣,面對教學壓力時,該怎麼辦?

情緒是一種能量。當壓力來時,當情緒來時,要懂得把它轉成一種正面能量,給它一條紓解的出路。情緒不會因為被壓抑、漠視就消失。工作坊主講人余瑩櫻老師憑她多年的前線教育和學校輔導工作經驗,給現場的老師們提出了很多實用的方法。

情緒,一定要處理,否則可能會用語言傷害別人。“老師們,你覺得困擾你的東西,不要把它藏起來,要說出來,去溝通,去解決。去找出潛藏在你內心的情緒,去處理和面對。”

面對情緒,有5個步驟:接納情緒→辨識情緒→解釋引發情緒的情境→處理情緒→尋找問題解決策 略。她鼓勵老師們,當察覺自己有情緒時,要先找個管道來處理情緒。處理情緒的方式有很多,深呼吸、吹氣球、喝杯水、傾訴、書寫、畫畫都是,甚至可以直接告 訴對方自己的情緒。待情緒處理了,才來處理事情。這個先後順序很重要。

引發情緒的導火線,不是學生不交功課

而且原來引發情緒的事件背後,是一個觀念在左右。舉個例子,學生不做功課,老師們會生氣。為何會生氣?“因為達不到我的要求。”你的甚麼要求?“學習。從二年級順利升上三年級的要求。”

佘瑩櫻分析:“是你的想法法讓你生氣,因為你認為他不做功課可能會無法完成學業,所以你就有了情緒,你會生氣。生氣了會處罰,所以事件發生,你情緒先出來,再有個行為。最重要的,是一個信念和想法,促使你的這個行為。所以你要先調整對事情的看法。

“像對我個人來講,不做功課並沒有太大的問題。我會尊重這個孩子,也許這還不是他要每一天交功 課的時候。他的現在跟以後不是等號。他今天不做,不等於以後就不做。我會用尊重和等待,去等待這個孩子。當然在等待的過程中我會去關心他,去瞭解他,去跟 他做朋友,去做家訪。當他知道,他在我的身邊是安全的,他在學校是安全的,他自然會安穩下來。”

“7歲的孩子,懂甚麼叫不交功課以後沒有工作做?你的工作是去瞭解了以後,怎樣從不做到做一題直到做完。相信我,只要這個孩子的人格培養起來,他自然知道他要做甚麼。老師們,要相信你自己有這樣的能力。”
老師要學會從不同的角度看事情。“對我來講,一個學生不交功課,是可以處理的。當你站在平等的 角度跟他溝通,他是會改變的!”信念不同,處理的方式自然就會不一樣,因此引起你的情緒的,不是“學生不做功課”這件事情,而是這件事情後面的想法跟信 念。當我們想處理情緒或糾正行為,要掉回頭去調整自己對事件的信念和想法。

溫馨提醒:

情緒是我們內在想法所發出的一個訊 息。內分泌失調或身體狀況不佳,會影響情緒。日常生活中情緒的起落大多與“內在想法”有關。當“內在想法”與“所體驗到的生活事件”有了出入,即引發情 緒。兩者差異越大,引發的情緒反應也越強烈。內在的想法是隱晦不明,我們往往要藉助它的訊息──情緒,透過對情緒的尊重、接納與瞭解,使得內在想法得以浮 現,進而透過改變想法來改變情緒。

(星洲日報/新教育‧報道:許雪翠)

Saturday, 11 June 2011

MAS week Part 1



 This is My senior... u all will say he is like year 2 or year 3, rite? but actually he is only 1st year 1st... imagine his "old " face with his young age... xD.. he is handsome (more handsome than me) and also he is single..... anyone interested with this guy, can contact me.... hahahahaha







 One of the 4 pairs of twins available in our May 2011 batch.... Both of them are taking civil engineering and onli 1 managed to get scholarship (Petronas rule: onli 1 member in family can take it). So, the other one went in as a private student... he is appealling for the JPA scholarship and i dunno when the result will come out... Juz wish that he can get it and fulfill his dream....







 Lee! My brother (all frenz are bros) who are 1 of the 3 that accompanied me to Ipoh Parade to watch Pirates of the Caribbean.... Nice trip with you guys!  Not to forget, he is from Johor....




 This is Avalon, my senior... he is one of the faci for the MAS week... We had fun playing around with him... We also had lunch with him and another faci.. He is a MALE and not a FEMALE if that question came across ur mind... Cute small faci... ahahahaha




The guy in the yellow shirt is Itt Ping, counted as my neighbour since his room is near to mine... The other one lives in V6 which is damn far... both of them are in my group (English Tutorial) and nice working with u guys.... ^^




And the last one, juz to show 1 of the many activities carried out during the MAS week... i think it is the "Gantung kertas di belakang kamu" and then u go around to write anything u wan in other's paper... i still have my paper in my drawer... hehe... nice memories... The guy in blue is Shaun and the guy in the dot dot shirt is Sasi...

The Lady or The Tiger

In the very olden time there lived a semi-barbaric king, whose ideas, though somewhat polished and sharpened by the progressiveness of distant Latin neighbors, were still large, florid, and untrammeled, as became the half of him which was barbaric. He was a man of exuberant fancy, and, withal, of an authority so irresistible that, at his will, he turned his varied fancies into facts. He was greatly given to self-communing, and, when he and himself agreed upon anything, the thing was done. When every member of his domestic and political systems moved smoothly in its appointed course, his nature was bland and genial; but, whenever there was a little hitch, and some of his orbs got out of their orbits, he was blander and more genial still, for nothing pleased him so much as to make the crooked straight and crush down uneven places.
     Among the borrowed notions by which his barbarism had become semified was that of the public arena, in which, by exhibitions of manly and beastly valor, the minds of his subjects were refined and cultured.
     But even here the exuberant and barbaric fancy asserted itself. The arena of the king was built, not to give the people an opportunity of hearing the rhapsodies of dying gladiators, nor to enable them to view the inevitable conclusion of a conflict between religious opinions and hungry jaws, but for purposes far better adapted to widen and develop the mental energies of the people. This vast amphitheater, with its encircling galleries, its mysterious vaults, and its unseen passages, was an agent of poetic justice, in which crime was punished, or virtue rewarded, by the decrees of an impartial and incorruptible chance.
     When a subject was accused of a crime of sufficient importance to interest the king, public notice was given that on an appointed day the fate of the accused person would be decided in the king's arena, a structure which well deserved its name, for, although its form and plan were borrowed from afar, its purpose emanated solely from the brain of this man, who, every barleycorn a king, knew no tradition to which he owed more allegiance than pleased his fancy, and who ingrafted on every adopted form of human thought and action the rich growth of his barbaric idealism.
<  2  >
     When all the people had assembled in the galleries, and the king, surrounded by his court, sat high up on his throne of royal state on one side of the arena, he gave a signal, a door beneath him opened, and the accused subject stepped out into the amphitheater. Directly opposite him, on the other side of the enclosed space, were two doors, exactly alike and side by side. It was the duty and the privilege of the person on trial to walk directly to these doors and open one of them. He could open either door he pleased; he was subject to no guidance or influence but that of the aforementioned impartial and incorruptible chance. If he opened the one, there came out of it a hungry tiger, the fiercest and most cruel that could be procured, which immediately sprang upon him and tore him to pieces as a punishment for his guilt. The moment that the case of the criminal was thus decided, doleful iron bells were clanged, great wails went up from the hired mourners posted on the outer rim of the arena, and the vast audience, with bowed heads and downcast hearts, wended slowly their homeward way, mourning greatly that one so young and fair, or so old and respected, should have merited so dire a fate.
     But, if the accused person opened the other door, there came forth from it a lady, the most suitable to his years and station that his majesty could select among his fair subjects, and to this lady he was immediately married, as a reward of his innocence. It mattered not that he might already possess a wife and family, or that his affections might be engaged upon an object of his own selection; the king allowed no such subordinate arrangements to interfere with his great scheme of retribution and reward. The exercises, as in the other instance, took place immediately, and in the arena. Another door opened beneath the king, and a priest, followed by a band of choristers, and dancing maidens blowing joyous airs on golden horns and treading an epithalamic measure, advanced to where the pair stood, side by side, and the wedding was promptly and cheerily solemnized. Then the gay brass bells rang forth their merry peals, the people shouted glad hurrahs, and the innocent man, preceded by children strewing flowers on his path, led his bride to his home.
<  3  >
     This was the king's semi-barbaric method of administering justice. Its perfect fairness is obvious. The criminal could not know out of which door would come the lady; he opened either he pleased, without having the slightest idea whether, in the next instant, he was to be devoured or married. On some occasions the tiger came out of one door, and on some out of the other. The decisions of this tribunal were not only fair, they were positively determinate: the accused person was instantly punished if he found himself guilty, and, if innocent, he was rewarded on the spot, whether he liked it or not. There was no escape from the judgments of the king's arena.
     The institution was a very popular one. When the people gathered together on one of the great trial days, they never knew whether they were to witness a bloody slaughter or a hilarious wedding. This element of uncertainty lent an interest to the occasion which it could not otherwise have attained. Thus, the masses were entertained and pleased, and the thinking part of the community could bring no charge of unfairness against this plan, for did not the accused person have the whole matter in his own hands?
     This semi-barbaric king had a daughter as blooming as his most florid fancies, and with a soul as fervent and imperious as his own. As is usual in such cases, she was the apple of his eye, and was loved by him above all humanity. Among his courtiers was a young man of that fineness of blood and lowness of station common to the conventional heroes of romance who love royal maidens. This royal maiden was well satisfied with her lover, for he was handsome and brave to a degree unsurpassed in all this kingdom, and she loved him with an ardor that had enough of barbarism in it to make it exceedingly warm and strong. This love affair moved on happily for many months, until one day the king happened to discover its existence. He did not hesitate nor waver in regard to his duty in the premises. The youth was immediately cast into prison, and a day was appointed for his trial in the king's arena. This, of course, was an especially important occasion, and his majesty, as well as all the people, was greatly interested in the workings and development of this trial. Never before had such a case occurred; never before had a subject dared to love the daughter of the king. In after years such things became commonplace enough, but then they were in no slight degree novel and startling.
<  4  >
     The tiger-cages of the kingdom were searched for the most savage and relentless beasts, from which the fiercest monster might be selected for the arena; and the ranks of maiden youth and beauty throughout the land were carefully surveyed by competent judges in order that the young man might have a fitting bride in case fate did not determine for him a different destiny. Of course, everybody knew that the deed with which the accused was charged had been done. He had loved the princess, and neither he, she, nor any one else, thought of denying the fact; but the king would not think of allowing any fact of this kind to interfere with the workings of the tribunal, in which he took such great delight and satisfaction. No matter how the affair turned out, the youth would be disposed of, and the king would take an aesthetic pleasure in watching the course of events, which would determine whether or not the young man had done wrong in allowing himself to love the princess.
     The appointed day arrived. From far and near the people gathered, and thronged the great galleries of the arena, and crowds, unable to gain admittance, massed themselves against its outside walls. The king and his court were in their places, opposite the twin doors, those fateful portals, so terrible in their similarity.
     All was ready. The signal was given. A door beneath the royal party opened, and the lover of the princess walked into the arena. Tall, beautiful, fair, his appearance was greeted with a low hum of admiration and anxiety. Half the audience had not known so grand a youth had lived among them. No wonder the princess loved him! What a terrible thing for him to be there!
     As the youth advanced into the arena he turned, as the custom was, to bow to the king, but he did not think at all of that royal personage. His eyes were fixed upon the princess, who sat to the right of her father. Had it not been for the moiety of barbarism in her nature it is probable that lady would not have been there, but her intense and fervid soul would not allow her to be absent on an occasion in which she was so terribly interested. From the moment that the decree had gone forth that her lover should decide his fate in the king's arena, she had thought of nothing, night or day, but this great event and the various subjects connected with it. Possessed of more power, influence, and force of character than any one who had ever before been interested in such a case, she had done what no other person had done - she had possessed herself of the secret of the doors. She knew in which of the two rooms, that lay behind those doors, stood the cage of the tiger, with its open front, and in which waited the lady. Through these thick doors, heavily curtained with skins on the inside, it was impossible that any noise or suggestion should come from within to the person who should approach to raise the latch of one of them. But gold, and the power of a woman's will, had brought the secret to the princess.
<  5  >
     And not only did she know in which room stood the lady ready to emerge, all blushing and radiant, should her door be opened, but she knew who the lady was. It was one of the fairest and loveliest of the damsels of the court who had been selected as the reward of the accused youth, should he be proved innocent of the crime of aspiring to one so far above him; and the princess hated her. Often had she seen, or imagined that she had seen, this fair creature throwing glances of admiration upon the person of her lover, and sometimes she thought these glances were perceived, and even returned. Now and then she had seen them talking together; it was but for a moment or two, but much can be said in a brief space; it may have been on most unimportant topics, but how could she know that? The girl was lovely, but she had dared to raise her eyes to the loved one of the princess; and, with all the intensity of the savage blood transmitted to her through long lines of wholly barbaric ancestors, she hated the woman who blushed and trembled behind that silent door.
     When her lover turned and looked at her, and his eye met hers as she sat there, paler and whiter than any one in the vast ocean of anxious faces about her, he saw, by that power of quick perception which is given to those whose souls are one, that she knew behind which door crouched the tiger, and behind which stood the lady. He had expected her to know it. He understood her nature, and his soul was assured that she would never rest until she had made plain to herself this thing, hidden to all other lookers-on, even to the king. The only hope for the youth in which there was any element of certainty was based upon the success of the princess in discovering this mystery; and the moment he looked upon her, he saw she had succeeded, as in his soul he knew she would succeed.
     Then it was that his quick and anxious glance asked the question: "Which?" It was as plain to her as if he shouted it from where he stood. There was not an instant to be lost. The question was asked in a flash; it must be answered in another.
<  6  >
     Her right arm lay on the cushioned parapet before her. She raised her hand, and made a slight, quick movement toward the right. No one but her lover saw her. Every eye but his was fixed on the man in the arena.
     He turned, and with a firm and rapid step he walked across the empty space. Every heart stopped beating, every breath was held, every eye was fixed immovably upon that man. Without the slightest hesitation, he went to the door on the right, and opened it.
     Now, the point of the story is this: Did the tiger come out of that door, or did the lady ?
     The more we reflect upon this question, the harder it is to answer. It involves a study of the human heart which leads us through devious mazes of passion, out of which it is difficult to find our way. Think of it, fair reader, not as if the decision of the question depended upon yourself, but upon that hot-blooded, semi-barbaric princess, her soul at a white heat beneath the combined fires of despair and jealousy. She had lost him, but who should have him?
     How often, in her waking hours and in her dreams, had she started in wild horror, and covered her face with her hands as she thought of her lover opening the door on the other side of which waited the cruel fangs of the tiger!
     But how much oftener had she seen him at the other door! How in her grievous reveries had she gnashed her teeth, and torn her hair, when she saw his start of rapturous delight as he opened the door of the lady! How her soul had burned in agony when she had seen him rush to meet that woman, with her flushing cheek and sparkling eye of triumph; when she had seen him lead her forth, his whole frame kindled with the joy of recovered life; when she had heard the glad shouts from the multitude, and the wild ringing of the happy bells; when she had seen the priest, with his joyous followers, advance to the couple, and make them man and wife before her very eyes; and when she had seen them walk away together upon their path of flowers, followed by the tremendous shouts of the hilarious multitude, in which her one despairing shriek was lost and drowned!
<  7  >
     Would it not be better for him to die at once, and go to wait for her in the blessed regions of semi-barbaric futurity?
     And yet, that awful tiger, those shrieks, that blood!
     Her decision had been indicated in an instant, but it had been made after days and nights of anguished deliberation. She had known she would be asked, she had decided what she would answer, and, without the slightest hesitation, she had moved her hand to the right.
     The question of her decision is one not to be lightly considered, and it is not for me to presume to set myself up as the one person able to answer it. And so I leave it with all of you: Which came out of the opened door - the lady, or the tiger?