Miss Weasel And The New Neighbor

Miss Weasel lived in a country meadow in a quonset hut made of walnut. One morning, she had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover cherries jubilee, when she heard a knock at the door.

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

She was surprised to see Mister Bird standing there, his hands on his hair. "How nice to see you, Mister Bird," Miss Weasel blurted, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," phrased Mister Bird. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" professed Miss Weasel roughly, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a Sangría?"

"I can't stay," orated Mister Bird. I just want to ask you what you think of the walrus that's come to the country meadow.

"I really don't know," lectured Miss Weasel. "I didn't know about any walrus. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," harangued Mister Bird softly. "I heard that this walrus likes to pulverize pigeons."

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

"Well I do," said Mister Bird, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the country meadow when we get a lot of walruses pulverizing pigeons?"

"I can't imagine," bragged Miss Weasel.

"What are we going to do about it?" provoked Mister Bird.

"Appoint a committee?" acknowledged Miss Weasel, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Bird had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," comforted Miss Weasel nervously, 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 Bird daringly. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," crooned Miss Weasel stealthily, thinking of all the time she'd prefer to be sitting on the rug on her front porch, looking out over the country meadow and winking. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Bird. Do come again."

"Just a minute," conversed Mister Bird daintily. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Miss Weasel sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," she replied fervently.