On His Own Head

The VeloDrone sticks the four boxes of blackberries under his hat. This has the effect of enabling him to see, but also of raising the hat. The four friends walk to the bus stop, to catch the bus back to the city. The bus arrives. Le Bon David, Marie and Belle et Bonne get on. The VeloDrone sets one foot on the step.

Bus Driver: Excuse me sir, you'll need to remove your hat before boarding the bus.

The VeloDrone: Nonsense! There is no law against wearing a hat on the bus.

Bus Driver: True. But you will not be able to get on the bus because your hat is too high.

The VeloDrone: I don't believe it. I shall get on and see.

Bus Driver: Then be it on your own head.

The VeloDrone: Ha! Very funny!

He steps up gingerly. His hat hits the roof of the bus, the tasselled point bends and is crushed. A trickle of deep red liquid rolls past his nose and into his mouth.

Bus Driver: Blood rule! Blood rule! Get off the bus.

The VeloDrone: That isn't blood, you ignoramus, it's blackberry juice. (He licks his lips.)

Bus Driver: Assistance! Assistance! We have an emergency!

Belle et Bonne gets up and comes to the front of the bus.

Belle et Bonne: What's the trouble, papa?

Bus Driver: Is this gentleman with you?

Belle et Bonne: Yes he is. What's the matter!

Bus driver: He's bleeding.

Belle et Bonne: Oh dear. Are you bleeding papa?

The VeloDrone: No, of course not! It's these cursed blackberries.

Belle et Bonne: It's only blackberry juice, driver. I'll help him to wipe it off.

Bus Driver: Alright then, miss, but he'll have to sit up here in the disabled section where I can keep an eye on him.

The VeloDrone: I refuse to sit here! There are no proper seats.

Belle et Bonne: It's alright, papa. Look, you pull the seats down like this. I'll sit next to you. And I'll find you a hankie.

The VeloDrone: (glaring at the bus driver): Thank you, my dear. And perhaps you could straighten my hat.

High Hat

Le Bon David, Marie and Belle et Bonne are sitting in front of Cafe Tranquilo in Stirling, drinking coffee under a shady tree.

Belle et Bonne: How beautiful it is! Lucky people, who live here.

Marie: Yes, what lovely liquidamber trees. Imagine how glorious they must look in autumn. And what a delightful village atmosphere!

Le Bon David: And yet it seems to be a little difficult to cross the road.

Belle et Bonne: Mmm, there is rather a constant stream of traffic. Look at that man over there trying to cross. He's been waiting for ages.

Marie: Look at his funny hat. No wonder he can't get across. He can't see properly.

Le Bon David: I've never seen such a hat.

Belle et Bonne: Neither have I. He looks like some sort of a hippie.

The man in the hat finally begins to cross the road. It is indeed a strange hat he is wearing. It is made of stiff bands of brightly coloured materials stitched together. It is wide at the bottom tapering upwards into a point with a tassel that is at least half a metre above his head.
He approaches the table under the tree at Cafe Tranquilo.

The Man in the Hat: Hello everyone! Did you find any blackberries?

Belle et Bonne: Papa! It's you!

Marie: What a shock you gave us. We thought you were a local.

Le Bon David: Yes, Vello! We thought you were a hippie! Where did you get that hat?

The VeloDrone: Oh, I bought it in Druids Lane, just round the corner. There's a craft fair going on. You can buy organic coffee, jars of jam, beads, vegetables in pots....

Le Bon David: And peculiar hats.

The VeloDrone: It's a Hilltribe hat, that's what it is. It only cost eighteen dollars.

Belle et Bonne: I think it's very nice papa, now that I've got used to it. But can you see in it?

The VeloDrone: Not really, I was wondering if you could think of a way I could raise it a little?

Marie: Yes we can. Here are four boxes of blackberries that we have spent all afternoon gathering. You can stick them under your hat.

Blackberries and a Fig

Blackberries! said Pliny he Elder. Where did you get those?

We got them from the hills, I said. Picked only half an hour ago. They're really fresh.

That reminds me of a story, said Pliny.

Is it about blackberries? I asked.

No, he said. It's about Cato the Elder, and a fig.

I am intrigued, I said. Go on.

Cato, said Pliny, is a hero of mine. He was a soldier farmer, and he rose to become a consul, and a censor, although he was a plebeian. He represented the old Roman values of simplicity and hard work.

And cruelty, I said. I've heard of him.

Nonsense, said Pliny. He was not cruel. But he was somewhat obsessed with the necessity of destroying Carthage.

Carthago Delenda Est! I cried, happily remembering my Latin.

Yes. He used to say it at the end of every speech he made.

Like pollies do today. Stop the Boats!

Something like that. But Cato did succeed in persuading the Romans to embark upon the third Punic War. And he did it by means of a fig.

A fig?

A fig. He brought a fresh fig into the forum one day and showed it around. How old do you think this fig is? he asked. Everyone agreed it looked very fresh. It was picked two days ago, said Cato. IN CARTHAGE!

So? I said, not getting it.

So, said Pliny, That put the wind up the senators, well and truly. To think that the Carthaginians were only as far away from Rome as that! So they agreed to go to war.

Is that true? I asked.

Yes, it is recorded, said Pliny.

That's shocking on so many levels, I said.