What is there in this world for you, Stringbean, once your youth has dried up? What else can you do, when you can no longer run and climb and eat the sun that hangs from low-hanging branches? Will you work in the plasticine factory? Die in the mines? What is there for a girl like you, wild, unconquerable Stringbean? "I want to be an astronaut," she answered, with childlike sullenness.