Publisher's Synopsis
Mr. Kishimaru smiled, and rubbed his long lean hands gently the one over the other. "Yes, Mr. Amory, you make great progress," he said, in low smooth tones, and with the careful enunciation of one speaking a foreign tongue. "You will be an artist. Yes, I assure you: jujutsu is a fine art; more than that, it is an application of pure science. I say that, and I know. Compare it with boxing, that which your grandfathers called the noble art. Rapidity of movement, yes; quickness of eye and judgment, yes; but delicacy of touch--ah! jujutsu has it, boxing no. There is nothing brutal about jujutsu." Kenneth Amory smiled back at the enthusiastic little Japanese, and rubbed his left shoulder. "Nothing brutal, I agree," he said. "But it has been a dry summer, Mr. Kishimaru."
