Napoleon’sNapoleon’sNapoleon’s

JourneyJourneyJourney

When he’d recovered his hat, he made a

very proper and polite bow and started to

introduce himself.

“Good day Madame, I’m ........” but he

could not finish because he hadn’t a clue who he

was, what he was or whether he had a name.

Our little friend thought that was rather

rude and was about to say as much when the

voice continued:

“I’m Penny Wren; Jenny’s little sister,

what’s your name?”

“I haven’t got a name, I was only born five

minutes ago and I have-

n’t had the chance to

“I see your problem; I mean you couldn’t very well call

yourself ‘Tiddles’ if you were a big fierce dog, could

you?”

“Oh, do you think that’s what I might be?”

said our little green pal, having a quick go at

growling (but not succeeding).

“Don’t be stupid”, said

penny Wren, “Us wrens

don’t eat big fierce dogs

for breakfast.

You’re a caterpillar”.

Caterpillar sat down and thought. He seemed to be in a

fix. He was not a big fierce dog and wrens don’t eat

dogs. He was a caterpil-

lar and wrens do eat

them. And here he was,

face to knee

with a wren!

“You wouldn’t eat a caterpillar without a name, would

you?” he asked hopefully.

“Not if you think of one quickly”,

replied Penny.

Fortunately for him, and to make our story longer,

the Man From

The House came

up the path just

then and Penny

flew off in alarm.

Caterpillar sat very still in the shade of a cabbage and thought. A

name suitable for a caterpillar? Rover?... No. Jumbo?.... No.

Dobin?.... No. “How about Napoleon?” he wondered and the more he

thought about it and the more he said it to

himself the more he thought it suited

him.

Napoleon decided that encounters with pompous wrens

made one hungry and set off to find something more to eat.

Before long he discovered a rather splendid looking

cauliflower and

quickly climbed the

stalk.

When he awoke The Man From The

House was walking through the

vegetable patch with a basket

and a large knife.

With one deft movement of the knife, the cauliflower

(and Napoleon) were on the ground only to

be picked up and

placed in the basket.

That was the start of a long journey which took Napoleon

from his birthplace.

He travelled in a van to

a large, bustling,

noisy market and

after a brief rest he was lifted

into a big lorry.

The lorry sped through the night

and daylight found our friend

in a bigger, more bustling, noisier

market.

There were voices shouting and the rattle of

coins; engines and trolleys

added to the din.

Breakfast time arrived and Napoleon was surprised to find that

all the excitement had had no ill effect on his

appetite at all.

While he was munching, he felt himself being lifted again. This time he

was packed onto another van and driven to a shop.

There the crate was

opened and the cauliflower

was put onto a shelf.

It rested there for a while before being taken down and placed inside a

dark bag.

Napoleon just thought that night had

arrived earlier than he’d expected, so he

decided to get down to some serious

eating to make up for the time he

thought he’d lost.

Before he got very far however, he was lifted out of the bag and placed

on a hard, shiny draining board.

lady and a little girl.

And that’s how the caterpillar came to be in our cauliflower

last week.

But what happened to Napoleon after that is another story

for another day.