To be sure, we women are not always disposed to have our husbands rule, we even go so far as to say they are not fit to rule, but alas, the men we are permitted to know the best of all are always the sons of some one else, and so there you have the endless chain.

Sons! Sons! Sons! Sons to create new sons,--sons without end, amen! God bless our sons!" "And I say God bless our mothers!" "In that one little sentence, Mr.Percivail, spoke from the heart, you have reveal the secret history of the world.

You have account for everything." "You are a million years old, Madame Obosky," he said, looking into her deep, unfathomable eyes.
She smiled.

"So?
And which of my sons, Mr.Percivail, do you think I love the most?
Cain or Abel ?" "It would take a woman to answer that question.

There's one thing certain, however.