Not Strictly A Philosopher

We shouldn't have let Arthur go off like that, says mum. He hasn't any water.

Never mind, says Gaius. He's had two mugs of tea.

And lots of damper, says Emma. Did you see how much he ate?

That'll weigh him down, says mum. Perhaps we should go after him.

We'll give him half an hour, says Dr Yates. Then we'll drive up behind him, and see if he wants a lift.

They all settled back to enjoy the next half hour.

Dad turns to Gaius.

And where did you and Arthur meet, if you don't mind me asking? says dad.

The Tour de France, says Gaius. We were in the same team. Team Philosophe.

Oh, says dad. Is Arthur a philosopher? I thought he was a poet.

We have an open sort of team, says Gaius. I myself am not strictly a philosopher, but a natural historian.

And a good hands-on one too, says Dr Yates. He found two Medium-sized Claws up at the diggings.

Indeed, says Gaius modestly, they were only Middle-sized. When I had hoped ......

Lavender isn't listening to any of this. She's worried about Arthur, riding a bicycle in the dark, with nothing but a zircon in his pocket.

As well she might be.

..........

Arthur is riding along in the gathering dark. He is not sure whether he has turned the right way at the turn-off.

What does it matter? thinks Arthur. I'll either get where I'm going , or arrive somewhere else.

How little he knows the outback.

Rattle, rattle.

It's the zircon.

Do you..uh..uh..know.... where we're going? it asks.

No, says Arthur. Do you?

Urrrah! says the zircon. I SAID something!! Urrrah! Now I'm cooking! Do you want my opinion? Are you melancholy? Aspiring to wisdom through science? Hungry? I know how to make damper!