Mister Snipe And The New Neighbor

Mister Snipe lived alongside a stream in a retreat made of fabric. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover lime sherbet, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mrs. Chicken standing there, her hands on her skin. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Chicken," Mister Snipe wondered, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," panted Mrs. Chicken. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" smirked Mister Snipe sharply, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a V8?"

"I can't stay," continued Mrs. Chicken. I just want to ask you what you think of the dodo bird that's come to the stream.

"I really don't know," muttered Mister Snipe. "I didn't know about any dodo bird. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," fretted Mrs. Chicken automatically. "I heard that this dodo bird likes to refurbish contracts."

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

"Well I do," said Mrs. Chicken, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the stream when we get a lot of dodo birds refurbishing contracts?"

"I can't imagine," croaked Mister Snipe.

"What are we going to do about it?" commented Mrs. Chicken.

"Appoint a committee?" chortled Mister Snipe, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Chicken had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," enunciated Mister Snipe boisterously, 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. Chicken miserably. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," queried Mister Snipe shakily, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the stool on his front porch, looking out over the stream and running away. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Chicken. Do come again."

"Just a minute," retorted Mrs. Chicken crossly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Snipe sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied queerly.