HOBSON. I am. (_Turns_.) They scorn my wisdom, Jim. They
answer back. I'm landed in a hole--a great and undignified hole.
My own daughters have got the upper hand of me.

JIM. Women are worse than men for getting above themselves.

HOBSON. A woman's foolishness begins where man's leaves off.

JIM. They want a firm hand, Henry.

HOBSON. I've lifted up my voice and roared at them.

JIM. Beware of roaring at women, Henry. Roaring is mainly hollow
sound. It's like trying to defeat an army with banging drums
instead of cold steel. And it's steel in a man's character that
subdues the women.

HOBSON. I've tried all ways, and I'm fair moithered. I dunno what
to do. (_Scratches his head_.)

JIM. Then you quit roaring at 'em and get 'em wed.
(_Rises_.)

HOBSON. I've thought of that. Trouble is to find the men.

JIM. Men's common enough. Are you looking for angels in breeches?

HOBSON. I'd like my daughters to wed temperance young men, Jim.

JIM. You keep your ambitions within reasonable limits, Henry.