“No! No Easter egg hunt this year. I’m going to sell the store and head south. I’ll be gone by Easter time.”
“Sell the store!” Mr. Whiskers could not believe his ears. “Suffering codfish, Seth! Who is going to sell me nightshirts and long underwear? Who am I going to beat at checkers on saturday nights?”
“It won’t be me!” Seth shook his head. “Nobody really needs me. Nobody cares. I’m all alone in this big place. I’m ready to say good-bye to Cranberryport.”
