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           ThentherewasthebadtradehemadeofhisfossilstonesandshellcollectionwithCharlieWoodmanforaTarzanclaystatueyougotbysavingupmacaroniboxtops.DroppedtheTarzanstatueonthesidewalkseconddayhehadit."

           "That’sashame,"saidthejunkmanandreallysawallthepiecesonthecement.

           "Thenhedidn’tgetthebookofmagictrickshewantedforhisbirthday,gotapairofpantsandashirtinstead.That’senoughtoruinthesummerrightthere."

           "Parentssometimesforgethowitis,"saidMr.Jonas.

           "Sure,"Tomcontinuedinalowvoice,"thenDoug’sgenuinesetofTower-of-Londonmanaclesgotleftoutallnightandrusted.Andworstofall,Igrewoneinchtaller,catchingupwithhimalmost."

           "Isthatall?"askedthejunkmanquietly.

           "Icouldthinkoftendozenotherthings,allasbadorworse.Somesummersyougetarunoflucklikethat.It’sbeensilverfishgettinginhiscomicscollectionormildewinhisnewtennisshoeseversinceDouggotoutofschool."

           "Irememberyearslikethat,"saidthejunkman.

           Helookedoffattheskyandtherewerealltheyears.

           "Sothereyouare,Mr.Jonas.That’sit.That’swhyhe’sdying..."

           Tomstoppedandlookedaway.

           "Letmethink,"saidMr.Jonas.

           "Canyouhelp,Mr.Jonas?Canyou?"

           Mr.Jonaslookeddeepinthebigoldwagonandshookhishead.Now,inthesunlight,hisfacelookedtiredandhewasbeginningtoperspire.Thenhepeeredintothemoundsofvasesandpeelinglampshadesandmarblenymphsandsatyrsmadeofgreeningcopper.Hesighed.