A lioness and a vixen were talking together about their young, as mothers will, and saying how healthy and well-grown they were, and what beautiful coats they had, and how they were the image of their parents.

“My litter of cubs is a joy to see,” said the fox; and then she added, rather maliciously, “But I notice you never have more than one.”

“No,” said the lioness grimly, “but that one is a lion.”

Quality, not quantity.

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