Mister Weasel And The New Neighbor

Mister Weasel lived in a marsh in a housing project made of logs. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover macaroni, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mister Cat standing there, his hands on his appendix. "How nice to see you, Mister Cat," Mister Weasel ranted, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," blustered Mister Cat. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" cajoled Mister Weasel menacingly, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a secret potion?"

"I can't stay," admitted Mister Cat. I just want to ask you what you think of the squirrel that's come to the marsh.

"I really don't know," hinted Mister Weasel. "I didn't know about any squirrel. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," persisted Mister Cat vigorously. "I heard that this squirrel likes to tickle toilet plungers."

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

"Well I do," said Mister Cat, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the marsh when we get a lot of squirrels tickling toilet plungers?"

"I can't imagine," jeered Mister Weasel.

"What are we going to do about it?" queried Mister Cat.

"Appoint a committee?" indicated Mister Weasel, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Cat had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," burbled Mister Weasel hungrily, 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 Mister Cat haughtily. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," amended Mister Weasel innocently, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the footstool on his front porch, looking out over the marsh and gesticulating. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Cat. Do come again."

"Just a minute," gasped Mister Cat grandly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Weasel sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied frenetically.