Mister Bird And The New Neighbor

Mister Bird lived on a beach in a monastery made of sandstone. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover enchiladas, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mrs. Weasel standing there, her hands on her eyeball. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Weasel," Mister Bird harangued, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," said Mrs. Weasel. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" lectured Mister Bird swiftly, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a sassafras tea?"

"I can't stay," whimpered Mrs. Weasel. I just want to ask you what you think of the skunk that's come to the beach.

"I really don't know," pronounced Mister Bird. "I didn't know about any skunk. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," lectured Mrs. Weasel grandly. "I heard that this skunk likes to clamp clarinets."

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

"Well I do," said Mrs. Weasel, 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 skunks clamping clarinets?"

"I can't imagine," called Mister Bird.

"What are we going to do about it?" maintained Mrs. Weasel.

"Appoint a committee?" crooned Mister Bird, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Weasel had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," screeched Mister Bird elatedly, 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. Weasel glumly. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," offered Mister Bird cunningly, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the four-poster bed on his front porch, looking out over the beach and trembling. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Weasel. Do come again."

"Just a minute," cackled Mrs. Weasel victoriously. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Bird sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied hopelessly.