And then he said, in the unhappiest little voice, "Mig has to leave his--his _erling_ on the planet, to get blowed up with the sun! It's a little bitty thing like a puppy, but his Daddy says there isn't any room on the spaceship for it! But he got it for his--well, I guess it was kind of like a birthday--and he wanted to show it to me when he got here!" Well! I guess the lecture I gave him about imagination had something to do with it, because I didn't hear any more about Mig for quite some time. He kept Beth posted, though. He even told her when the spaceship was going to take off and when Mig's sun was going to blow up, or else where we'd see it. I don't know which. But anyway, he made her mark it down on the Calendar. The fifth of November, it was. Well, in September I went back to college, and--well, I don't just talk about things outside of the family, but my boy friend, Dave, he was almost like one of the family, and this year he'd got a job working with Professor Milliken at the Observatory. You know Professor Milliken, don't you? I thought so. I told Dave about this Mig phase of Jackie's, and one night when Dave was over at Beth's with me, he got the kid talking about it. He humored the kid a lot. He even took him over to the Observatory and let Jackie look through the big telescope there. And of course Jackie gave Dave all the latest details on Mig. It seems that this spaceship had already taken off--that was why he hadn't heard much from Mig lately, because--"Mig's Daddy sealed him up in a little capsule, so he won't wake up till they are 'way out in hyperspace. Because the spaceship will go faster and faster and _awful_ fast, and unless he is sealed up, and asleep, it will hurt him something _awful_!" And Dave humored Jackie, and talked about acceleration and hyperspace and shortcuts across the Galaxy, and I don't know what all, and Jackie just sat there and drank it all in as if he understood every word. Dave even wrote down the day when Mig's sun was supposed to blow up, and promised to keep an eye on it. Jackie started to kindergarten, of course, about then, and I thought he'd forgotten all about Mig. I didn't hear anything more for at least six weeks. But one night--I was babysitting for Beth again--the telephone rang, and it was Dave. "Dorothy! Remember Jackie's little Galactic citizen whose world was supposed to go up in smoke tonight?" I glanced at the calendar. It was November fifth. "Now, look here, Dave," I said firmly. "You are not going to disillusion the kid like that. He's forgotten all about the silly business. Besides, he's in bed." "Well, get him up!" said Dave. "Dorrie, get a load of this. The biggest supernova I ever saw just exploded in the North. Get Jackie over here! I want to ask him some questions!"