Mister Nightingale And The New Neighbor

Mister Nightingale lived on a beach in a bungalow made of manure. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover sauerkraut, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mrs. Manticore standing there, her hands on her back. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Manticore," Mister Nightingale groveled, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," phrased Mrs. Manticore. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" requested Mister Nightingale numbly, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a cup of coffee?"

"I can't stay," peeped Mrs. Manticore. I just want to ask you what you think of the flea that's come to the beach.

"I really don't know," joked Mister Nightingale. "I didn't know about any flea. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," jeered Mrs. Manticore frenetically. "I heard that this flea likes to empty dollar bills."

"Um, I don't know what to say," argued Mister Nightingale, who really didn't know what to say.

"Well I do," said Mrs. Manticore, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the beach when we get a lot of fleas emptying dollar bills?"

"I can't imagine," declared Mister Nightingale.

"What are we going to do about it?" chuckled Mrs. Manticore.

"Appoint a committee?" maintained Mister Nightingale, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Manticore had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," retorted Mister Nightingale again, 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. Manticore lightly. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," debated Mister Nightingale cruelly, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the stairway on his front porch, looking out over the beach and getting rigid. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Manticore. Do come again."

"Just a minute," screamed Mrs. Manticore slowly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Nightingale sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied bitterly.