Before the first kettle sang, the gooseberry bush in the front garden stood very still. Each berry waited for the nearest leaf to finish saying good morning, then glanced at the watering can as if asking whether a single stripe would be enough for the day.
We asked at the kiosk. "I thought they were already dressed," said a man with a paper bag of sugar. "Then the smallest one nodded to the can, pulled on one tidy band, and sat a little taller. I clapped once, very quietly. It seemed only polite."
The gardener left a note on the spout: please do not pick until class has put on exactly one vest stripe. After that they rest against their own leaves and save the next band for whoever brings a saucer after lunch.
The next morning a neighbor claimed the watering can had practiced the nod at dusk. By breakfast the berries were back in a tidy row, each wearing one stripe for the first polite passerby.