“All right, I’m going to slide for home!” he answered, for he imagined it was one of his baseball companions shouting to him. Then he awakened and realized that it was his father calling to him to get up.
“Hurry!” said Mr. Tiptop. “The vans will soon be here, and we must get through with breakfast.”
“And no school to-day!” cried Tommy in delight, as he hopped out of bed.
The confusion, which had started the evening before, was worse now, for everything seemed upset. Mrs. Tiptop managed to get a simple breakfast, and then there came a rumbling noise outside the house.
“It’s the vans!” cried Tommy, running to a window. “Hurry! Now for some fun! Whoop!”
“Now, don’t get in the men’s way,” advised Mr. Tiptop, as he went out to speak to the movers.
Then began an even more busy time. The men came into the house, looked over the things to be put in the vans, and began carrying out the piano and other heavy articles.
“I’m going to help!” cried Tommy, as he seized a chair and started out with it.
“Tommy! Tommy!” cried his mother. “That’s too heavy for you!”
“No, ma, it isn’t,” he answered, as he thought of how he had often carried heavy logs when the boys were making a bonfire. “I can manage it.”