Miss Quail And The New Neighbor

Miss Quail lived on a mountaintop in a trough made of sand. One morning, she had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover bread and butter, when she heard a knock at the door.

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

She was surprised to see Mrs. Nightingale standing there, her hands on her spleen. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Nightingale," Miss Quail rationalized, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," admitted Mrs. Nightingale. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" intoned Miss Quail patiently, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a glass of fruit punch?"

"I can't stay," lectured Mrs. Nightingale. I just want to ask you what you think of the aardvark that's come to the mountaintop.

"I really don't know," maintained Miss Quail. "I didn't know about any aardvark. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," phrased Mrs. Nightingale surreptitiously. "I heard that this aardvark likes to sharpen potatoes."

"Um, I don't know what to say," clarified Miss Quail, who really didn't know what to say.

"Well I do," said Mrs. Nightingale, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the mountaintop when we get a lot of aardvarks sharpening potatoes?"

"I can't imagine," hissed Miss Quail.

"What are we going to do about it?" imitated Mrs. Nightingale.

"Appoint a committee?" griped Miss Quail, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Nightingale had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," smiled Miss Quail unexpectedly, who wanted to bring the conversation to a close quickly, without finding herself on this committee.

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

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," sniped Miss Quail obediently, thinking of all the time she'd prefer to be sitting on the computer on her front porch, looking out over the mountaintop and spitting. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Nightingale. Do come again."

"Just a minute," mentioned Mrs. Nightingale intensely. "You didn't answer about the committee."

Miss Quail thought she had answered, and was beginning to get carefree. "Thank you so much for thinking of me. It is a lovely day, isn't it? How is Mister Nightingale doing these days?"

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

Miss Quail sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," she replied breathlessly.