"What won^t do, my son? " asked his mother, smiling.
"Carrying those heavy things down stairs."
"But I did not do that—at least not all of it," the widow hastened to say. "Your friend, Nelson Cady, happened along about three o'clock. Nothing would do but he must lend a helping hand. Then his chums found him out. They were soon in service, too."
Just as Frank finished his supper there were cheery boyish hails outside. Nelson and five of his cohorts animatedly demanded that they become part and parcel in the fun and excitement of moving.
Soon there was a procession carrying various articles to the rooms on Cedar Street. The wagons took the heavy furniture and such like. Just at dark the last had left the cottage. Looking back, Frank saw Mr. Dorsett sneaking into his empty house from the rear.
"He doesn't look particularly happy, now he has had his own way," reflected Frank. "I hope mother doesn't take the change to heart."
His first question was along that very line, as the last chair was set in place in the new family habitation.
"Sad, Frank?" said his mother—"no, indeed
