Miss Nightingale And The New Neighbor

Miss Nightingale lived on a mountaintop in a chateau made of ice. One morning, she had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover catfish stew, when she heard a knock at the door.

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

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

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" observed Miss Nightingale sorrowfully, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a fruit smoothie?"

"I can't stay," fretted Mrs. Mule. I just want to ask you what you think of the partridge that's come to the mountaintop.

"I really don't know," taunted Miss Nightingale. "I didn't know about any partridge. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," admitted Mrs. Mule impatiently. "I heard that this partridge likes to rock calling cards."

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

"Well I do," said Mrs. Mule, 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 partridges rocking calling cards?"

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

"What are we going to do about it?" screeched Mrs. Mule.

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

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

"Well that's a fine idea," concluded Miss Nightingale hungrily, 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. Mule frenetically. "You always have such good ideas."

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

"Just a minute," quavered Mrs. Mule blankly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

Mrs. Mule 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 demurely.