There was no news to speak of from Little America. Hutcheson said that Charlie and John Dyer were out skiing, and the «Doc» Poulter was with the meteor observers. Lord, how I envy them the multitudinous diversions of Little America; even, I suppose, as they must on their side envy the people home with whom they chat on the radio. .
I sent a message approving the meteor journey, subject to its being made with full regard for its hazards.
July 2
. . I've begun to read again — two chapters from The House of Exile, which I hope to continue with tonight. It's the best thing imaginable for me — takes me out of myself for a blessed hour or two. And tonight, also, I played the phonograph after supper — «In a Monastery Garden,» «Die Fledermaus,» «Tales from the Vienna Woods,» and «The Swan.» As I listened the hope swept over me that I have a good chance to pull through, unless another serious setback comes. Although still stupidly weak, I have made real progress the past week. The knowledge is exhilarating. .
July 3
. . Cold spell still holding — 62 degrees below zero today. The ice is a foot higher on the walls. I have at last managed to get rid of a good deal of the frozen slop which for the most part I've been dumping into the tunnel — just outside the door. Sitting on the rim of the hatch, I've been hauling the stuff topside with a bucket and line, and dumping it a little to leeward. Of course, this meant half a dozen trips up and down the ladder to fill the bucket; and I thought how wonderful it would be if I had a Man Friday topside and had only to shout: «Take a strain, Friday, it's full.» As it is, I have to sit down and rest after every trip. However, the job was well worth doing. The tunnels are much tidier.
July 4
I was greatly encouraged over finding myself able to level some of the drifts. Yet, I had to drive myself, for the temperature was in the minus 50's; and, animal-like, I seem to shrink instinctively from anything that hurts. It's odd that I should have changed so much. The cold never used to bother me. I rather liked it for its cleansing, antiseptic action. But now I seem to have very little resistance. This afternoon, for example, I froze my nose rather severely; and, in the minute or two I had my hands out of my gloves to attend to it, I nipped five fingers.
It has been good for me to be outside. I suppose that I was in the air for nearly two hours altogether, though not more than half an hour at a time. The night is still very dark, but at noon the colors on the northern horizon had the hint of sunrise. The sun is now twelve days nearer. . I have always valued life, but never to the degree I do now. It is not within the power of words to describe what it means to have life pulsing through me again. I've been thinking of all the new things I'm going to do and the old things I'm going to do differently, if and when I ever get out of here. I hope that I won't be like the monk in the rhyme which goes something like this:
The monk when sick a monk would be,