the left card represents an important element of the past. the moon, when reversed: clarity, control and peace in troublesome times. increased psychic abilities. temptations, small problems and minor setbacks overcome. the dawning of a new day.
the middle card represents a deciding element of the present. queen of wands: the essence of fire behaving as water, such as a rainbow: the natural embodiment of passion and sensuality, who is always the center of attention. one who reflects the desires and ambitions of others, and ignites them. a radiantly vital person, cocky and charismatic, who sees what she wants and goes after it.
the right card represents a critical element of the future. the chariot: victory through might. advancement through bold action. change through force. order established through vigilance. a trying situation mastered by balancing opposing forces against each other. discipline, individual effort and endurance will turn the tide.
to come out of my own ways of life, to be another than myself through a kind of intoxication of the intellectual faculties, and to play this game at will, such was my recreation. whence comes the gift? is it a kind of second sight? is it one of those powers which when abused end in madness? i have never tried to discover its source; i possess it, i use it, that is all. but this it behooves you to know, that in those days i began to resolve the heterogeneous mass known as the people into its elements, and to evaluate its good and bad qualities. even then i realized the possibilities of my suburb, that hotbed of revolution in which heroes, inventors, and practical men of science, rogues and scoundrels, virtues and vices, were all packed together by poverty, stifled by necessity, drowned in drink, and consumed by ardent spirits.
you would not imagine how many adventures, how many tragedies, lie buried away out of sight in that dolorous city; how much horror and beauty lurks there. no imagination can reach the truth, no one can go down into that city to make discoveries; for one must needs descend too low into its depths to see the wonderful scenes of tragedy or comedy enacted there, the masterpieces
brought forth by chance.
"how about the day after to-morrow?" he considered for a moment. then, with reluctance:
"i want to get the grass cut," he said.
we both looked at the grass--there was a sharp line where my ragged lawn ended and the darker, well-kept expanse of his began. i suspected that he meant my grass.
"there's another little thing," he said uncertainly, and hesitated.
"would you rather put it off for a few days?" i asked.
"oh, it isn't about that. at least----" he fumbled with a series of beginnings.
poor mimmy is now in a worse plight than ever; for he has long ago found that the sword utterly defies his skill: the steel will yield neither to his hammer nor to his furnace. just then there walks into his cave a wanderer, in a blue mantle, spear in hand, with one eye concealed by the brim of his wide hat. mimmy, not by nature hospitable, tries to drive him away; but the wanderer announces himself as a wise man, who can tell his host, in emergency, what it most concerns him to know. mimmy, taking
this offer in high dudgeon, because it implies that his visitor's wits are better than his own, offers to tell the wise one something that he does not know: to wit, the way to the door. the imperturbable wanderer's reply is to sit down and challenge the dwarf to a trial of wit. he wagers his head against mimmy's that he will answer any three questions the dwarf can put to him.
the scene now changes. life is nothing but such changes. no sooner do we alight on one branch, and begin to sip the honey from it, but we are taken up and carried elsewhere, perhaps to the mountains or to the sea-shore, and there left to make new friends and find new methods of enjoyment.
the flight--or journey--was in itself an anxious time. for on my otherwise clear conscience rested the weight of that strange suitcase. fortunately hannah was so busy that i was left to pack my belongings myself, and thus for a time my guilty secret was safe. i put my things in on top of the masculine articles, not daring to leave any of them in the closet, owing to house-cleaning, which is always done before our return in the fall.
on the train i had a very unpleasant experience, due to sis opening my suitcase to look for a magazine, and drawing out a soiled gentleman's collar. she gave me a very piercing glance, but said nothing and at the next opportunity i threw it out of a window, concealed in a newspaper.
we now approach the catastrofe. my book on playwriting divides plays into introduction, development, crisis, denouement and catastrofe. and so one may divide life. in my case the cinder proved the introduction, as there was none other. i consider that the suitcase was the development, my showing it to jane raleigh was the crisis, and the denouement or catastrofe occured later on.