“I don’t know whether I should tell you,” she said. “I cannot just tell anybody. I would only want to tell a man who would be kind to these glamorous girls. Just because they are glamorous doesn’t mean that they do not have their feelings. Maybe I should wait a few years before I tell you.”

The apprentice, who had been smiling, now frowned. “I would treat such a girl very well, Mma. You can count on me.”

Mma Ramotswe concentrated on her driving. There was an elderly man on a bicycle ahead of them, a battered hat perched on his head, and a red hen tied to the carrier on the back of his cycle. She slowed down, giving him a wide berth.

“That hen is making its last journey,” she said. “He will be taking it to somebody who will eat it.”

The apprentice glanced behind him. “That is what happens to all hens. That is what they are for.”

“They may not think that,” said Mma Ramotswe.

The apprentice laughed. “They cannot think. They have very small heads. There are no brains in a chicken.”

“What is in their heads, then?” asked Mma Ramotswe.

“There is just blood and some bits of meat,” said the apprentice. “I have seen it. There is no brain.”

Mma Ramotswe nodded. “Oh,” she said. There was no point in arguing with these boys about matters of this sort; they were usually quite adamant that they were right, even if there was no basis for what they said.

“But what is this thing about girls?” the apprentice persisted. “You can tell me, Mma. I may talk about girls a lot, but I am very kind to them. You ask Mr J.L.B. Matekoni. He has seen how well I treat girls.”

They were now nearing the Tlokweng Road, and Mma Ramotswe thought that the time was ripe. She had aroused the apprentice’s attention and now he was listening to her.

“Well then,” she began, “I will tell you a very certain way to attract the attention of one of these glamorous girls. You must become well-known. If you are well-known—if your name is in the papers—then these girls cannot resist you. You look about you and see what sort of man has that sort of lady. It is always the ones who are in the papers. They get those girls every time.”

The apprentice looked immediately defeated. “That is not good news for me,” he said. “I shall never be well-known. I shall never get into the papers.”

“Why not?” asked Mma Ramotswe. “Why give up before you have started?”

“Because nobody is ever going to write about me,” said the apprentice. “I am just an unknown person. I am not going to be famous.”

“But look at Mr J.L.B. Matekoni,” said Mma Ramotswe. “Look at him. He was in the papers today. Now he is well-known.”