"It seemed to me at first the rummiest thing that ever I see. But I've
thought it over and thought it over, and now it's as clear as day.
When the Bosch is kept in a watertight compartment for a bit, he
gets back to being more or less of a human being. His whole trouble's
really through being surrounded by other Bosches. They get tellin'
each other what a great nation they are, and how they was born to
inherit the earth, and that it's only forestalling nature a bit to go
and take it now, and so on--each going one better than the last. They
keep on contaminatin' one another till what do you get? Why, me and
you spending our old age a-teaching of 'em humility.

"Now, with these 'ere convicts it was another story. 'Stead o' keep
talkin' about German culture and what rotters all the rest o' the
world was, their heads had plenty o' time to cool while they picked
their oakum or what not--resultin' in quite a fairly decent lot o'
men, as I say. Yes, it's very interesting and instructive. I believe
it's the solution of the question, 'How to cure the Bosch,' I do. If
you could keep 'em all apart from each other for five years you'd find
they'd be quite different. I daresay they wouldn't mind it so much
either."

"If I was a Bosch I should be thankful," I said. "But wouldn't there
be difficulties about this segregation?"

Digweed waved them aside.

"There's always difficulties," he said. "But you mark my words, that's
the thing to do. It would help it along, too, to give 'em the right
sort of books and papers to read. Why, if you worked the thing