I sometimes wonder why, with a thousand islands to choose from, the official salad mixer of the average hotel always picks the wrong one.
I kept on.

The thing proved magically easy of accomplishment.

By the fit of my clothing, if by nothing else, I could have told that several of my more noticeable convexes were becoming plane surfaces and gave promise in due season of becoming almost concave, some of 'em.

But there was other and convincing testimony besides.

I could tell it by my physical feelings, by my viewpoint, by my enhanced zest for work and for play.
Purposely, for the first month I refrained from weighing myself.