Miss Nightingale And The New Neighbor

Miss Nightingale lived on a steppe in a hut made of seashells. One morning, she had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover chicken gumbo, when she heard a knock at the door.

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

She was surprised to see Mister Peacock standing there, his hands on his skin. "How nice to see you, Mister Peacock," Miss Nightingale expressed, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," argued Mister Peacock. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" proposed Miss Nightingale languidly, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a dose of cod liver oil?"

"I can't stay," professed Mister Peacock. I just want to ask you what you think of the elk that's come to the steppe.

"I really don't know," decided Miss Nightingale. "I didn't know about any elk. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," said Mister Peacock grudgingly. "I heard that this elk likes to pluck watering cans."

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

"Well I do," said Mister Peacock, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the steppe when we get a lot of elk plucking watering cans?"

"I can't imagine," questioned Miss Nightingale.

"What are we going to do about it?" whined Mister Peacock.

"Appoint a committee?" taunted Miss Nightingale, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Peacock had in mind.

"That's exactly right," said Mister Peacock fearfully. "A committee to study the problem."

"Well that's a fine idea," grieved Miss Nightingale later, 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 Mister Peacock obediently. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," expressed Miss Nightingale delicately, thinking of all the time she'd prefer to be sitting on the TV on her front porch, looking out over the steppe and awakening. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Peacock. Do come again."

"Just a minute," rebutted Mister Peacock neatly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Miss Nightingale sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," she replied testily.