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’s a lion.”

Quality, not quantity.