TRY to imagine what your feelings would be if you were suddenly told, as I was, that you were seriously ill and that you would have to spend the next nine or twelve months in bed, in a sanatorium. You would probably react in exactly the same way as I did, by being plunged into the deepest gloom. I had led a particularly active life, and I reflected bitterly: no more modelling, football and motor cycling, for a year, anyhow. How wrong I was I soon learned. I have now spent nine months in bed, to date, and I expect to be on my feet once more within the next few weeks. Reposing on the top of the ward-cupboard at the side of my bed, and hung on the walls, are five control-line models, one powered free-flight model and many chuck gliders, all built within the last nine months whilst I was lying in bed. I sincerely hope none of you ever share my experience, but if by any chance you do, perhaps the following story will lighten your hearts and make your hospitalization (dreadful word) more cheerful.
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