The sixth planet was ten times larger than the last. It was the home of an old gentleman who wrote enormous books.

Oh, look! A real explorer! he cried, when he saw the prince. Where do you come from?

What is that big book? asked the prince. What are you doing?

I am a geographer, said the old gentleman.

What is a geographer? asked the prince.

A geographer is a scholar who knows where the seas are, and the rivers, the towns, the mountains, and the deserts.

That is very interesting, said the prince. Here at last is a man who has a real profession! And he looked around him at the planet. It was the most magnificent planet he had ever seen. Are there oceans here? he asked.

I couldn't tell you, said the geographer.

And mountains?

I couldn't tell you.

And towns, and rivers, and deserts?

I couldn't tell you either.

But you are a geographer!

Exactly, said the geographer. But I am not an explorer. I have no explorers. A geographer is much too important to go looking for towns, or rivers, or mountains, or deserts. He sits at his desk. He receives the explorers. He writes down what they tell him.

The prince thought of his own planet. I have a flower, he said.

We do not record flowers, said the geographer. They are ephemeral.

What does that mean — ephemeral?

It means, said the geographer, in danger of speedy disappearance.

Is my flower in danger of speedy disappearance?

Certainly she is.

The prince was silent for a while. My flower is ephemeral, he thought. And she has only four thorns to defend herself against the world. And I have left her all alone.

That was his first moment of regret.

Ephemeral means in danger of speedy disappearance.