Mister Polar Bear And The New Neighbor

Mister Polar bear lived in a hayfield in a studio made of cane. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover omelet, when he heard a knock at the door.

He jogged to the door, wondering who would be stopping for a visit at this time of day.

He was surprised to see Mrs. Chipmunk standing there, her hands on her palm. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Chipmunk," Mister Polar bear barked, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," yawned Mrs. Chipmunk. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" sniveled Mister Polar bear solemnly, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a shot of bourbon?"

"I can't stay," insisted Mrs. Chipmunk. I just want to ask you what you think of the fox that's come to the hayfield.

"I really don't know," declared Mister Polar bear. "I didn't know about any fox. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," grunted Mrs. Chipmunk angrily. "I heard that this fox likes to wash wrenches."

"Um, I don't know what to say," warbled Mister Polar bear, who really didn't know what to say.

"Well I do," said Mrs. Chipmunk, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the hayfield when we get a lot of foxes washing wrenches?"

"I can't imagine," cajoled Mister Polar bear.

"What are we going to do about it?" moaned Mrs. Chipmunk.

"Appoint a committee?" raved Mister Polar bear, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Chipmunk had in mind.

"That's exactly right," said Mrs. Chipmunk gleefully. "A committee to study the problem."

"Well that's a fine idea," explained Mister Polar bear shakily, who wanted to bring the conversation to a close quickly, without finding himself on this committee.

"I'd like for you to be on the committee," said Mrs. Chipmunk grimly. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," emphasized Mister Polar bear hysterically, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the settee on his front porch, looking out over the hayfield and leering. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Chipmunk. Do come again."

"Just a minute," stammered Mrs. Chipmunk thoughtfully. "You didn't answer about the committee."

Mister Polar bear thought he had answered, and was beginning to get brazen. "Thank you so much for thinking of me. It is a lovely day, isn't it? How is Mister Chipmunk doing these days?"

Mrs. Chipmunk would have none of it. "So, let's meet at your house, say tomorrow at two?"

Mister Polar bear sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied thoughtfully.