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The cheerful and vocal optimism of the average polio cannot be called "Pollyanna-ism" by any stretch of the imagination. He knows he is improving physically, that he intends to keep right on improving. He realizes that he is not unique in that he possesses a handicap, though his is a physical one.

However, the polio does partake too much of what we may call, for lack of a better name, "Pollyanna-ism by Omission." Again, he is not unique in that. If he clings to the belief that his economic and social salvation will come to pass somehow, some time, without the necessity of serious application, hard work, and the ruthless banishing of foolish sensitiveness and fear, he is not much worse than some of his able-bodied but spineless brothers.

Many a polio lets valuable hours go by without any constructive occupation whatever. Perhaps he even feels injured, as some of our acquaintance do, because time hangs heavy on his hands, and he finds himself without amusement to ward off that dreaded ogre, boredom.

A wasted hour is a greater loss to a polio than to an able-bodied person. We do not attempt to lay down any hard and fast definition of a wasted hour. That is a matter that can be settled for the individual by a combination of his own common sense and common honesty. Suffice it, that wasted hours should be cut out.

Probably polios need a bit more lower jaw to make up for the loss of miscellaneous muscles. At any rate, we need cheerful determination rather than cheerful resignation.