My knee is much better, though it often aches for long periods, and the stiffness is gradually leaving the arm which Wolf Larsen squeezed.

Otherwise I am in splendid condition, feel that I am in splendid condition.

My muscles are growing harder and increasing in size.

My hands, however, are a spectacle for grief.

They have a parboiled appearance, are afflicted with hang-nails, while the nails are broken and discoloured, and the edges of the quick seem to be assuming a fungoid sort of growth.