With four girls, Dad was reconciled to his fate of being the Last of the Gilbreths. He was not bitter; merely resigned. He kept repeating that a dozen girls would suit him just fine, and he made hearty jokes about “my harem.” When visitors came to call, Dad would introduce Anne, Mary, and Ernestine. Then he’d get Martha out of her crib and bring her into the living room. “And this,” he’d say, “is the latest model. Complete with all the improvements. And don’t think that’s all; we’re expecting the 1911 model some time next month.”
