Mister Beagle And The New Neighbor

Mister Beagle lived on a battlefield in a church made of old rags. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover dirty rice, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mrs. Polecat standing there, her hands on her wrist. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Polecat," Mister Beagle grunted, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," professed Mrs. Polecat. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" sighed Mister Beagle doubtfully, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a Harvey Wallbanger?"

"I can't stay," yammered Mrs. Polecat. I just want to ask you what you think of the pony that's come to the battlefield.

"I really don't know," began Mister Beagle. "I didn't know about any pony. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," cajoled Mrs. Polecat recklessly. "I heard that this pony likes to whirl knitting needles."

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

"Well I do," said Mrs. Polecat, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the battlefield when we get a lot of ponies whirling knitting needles?"

"I can't imagine," alleged Mister Beagle.

"What are we going to do about it?" indicated Mrs. Polecat.

"Appoint a committee?" purred Mister Beagle, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Polecat had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," mentioned Mister Beagle menacingly, 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. Polecat valiantly. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," persisted Mister Beagle gingerly, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the workbench on his front porch, looking out over the battlefield and gesticulating. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Polecat. Do come again."

"Just a minute," yammered Mrs. Polecat warily. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Beagle sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied busily.