ants. The girl wouldn't mind how
many she had, and she'd feed 'em herself. There'd be no damned bottle
and no damned limitation. And I'd put all the boys in the Navy, and I'd
make cooks out of the girls ... _cooks_, Quinny, not food-murderers, and
I'd call the first boy Michael John, and the second boy Patrick James
and the third boy Peter William and the fourth boy Roger Henry Gilbert
Ninian...."

"And what would you call the girls?"

"Wait a minute! I haven't done with the boys yet. And I'd call the fifth
boy Matthew. I'd call the first girl Margaret, and the second girl
Bridget, and the third girl Rachel, and the fourth girl Mary, and I'm
damned if I know what I'd call the fifth girl, so I'd let her mother
choose her name. And they'd all know how to swim, and manage a boat, and
box, and whistle with two fingers in their mouths, and the girls' chief
ambition would be to get married and have babies. They'd have a
competition to see who could have the most. And their husbands would all
be big, hearty men. Margaret would marry a blacksmith, and Bridget 'ud
marry a fisherman, and Rachel 'ud marry a farmer, and Mary'd marry a
soldier and the other one would marry a sailor. Mary's man 'ud be a
sergeant-major, a fat sergeant-major, and the other one's 'ud be a
boatswain or a chief gunner. I'd have so many grandchildren that I'd
never be able to remember which were mine and which belonged to the man
next door!..."

"You'd want a great deal of money for that lot, Gilbert!"

"I suppose I would. But I think that men of quality ought to have
children by strong, healthy women of the working-class. I think there's
a lot to be said for the right of the lord, don't you? It was good for
the race ... kept up the quality of the breed! I shall have to think
seriously about this...."

"You'd better look out for a farmer's daughter while you're here," Henry
suggested.

"What! A Welshwoman! Good God, no!! My goodness, Quinny, you ought to
bring that fellow, John Marsh, to Wales for a few months. That 'ud cure
him of his Slop about nationality. I came to Wales, determined to like
the Welsh, and I've failed. That's all. I've failed hopelessly. I told
myself that it was absurd to believe that a whole nation could be as bad
as English people say the Welsh are ... but it isn't absurd ... of the
Welsh anyhow. They're all that everybody says they are, only about ten
times worse. I've been all over this country one time and another, and
the