Under his arm Grandfather Leo had a white carton tied with string: he hadn’t let the rocketship officials take it and put it with the luggage. When they had left the terminal building and were in his dad’s ’copter, Grandfather Leo opened the package. It was full of Jewish bread and pickles and thin-sliced corned beef wrapped in protective plastic, three pounds of corned beef in all. “My gosh,” Jack exclaimed in delight. “All the way from New York. You can’t get that out here in the colonies, Dad.” “I know that, Jack,” Grandfather Leo said. “A Jewish fella told me where to get it, and I like it
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