Miss Beagle And The New Neighbor

Miss Beagle lived on a mesa in a motel made of cork. One morning, she had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover beans, when she heard a knock at the door.

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

She was surprised to see Mister Computer standing there, his hands on his intestine. "How nice to see you, Mister Computer," Miss Beagle grunted, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," muttered Mister Computer. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" screamed Miss Beagle blindly, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a soda?"

"I can't stay," rationalized Mister Computer. I just want to ask you what you think of the parrot that's come to the mesa.

"I really don't know," yelled Miss Beagle. "I didn't know about any parrot. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," snorted Mister Computer uselessly. "I heard that this parrot likes to leave muffins."

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

"Well I do," said Mister Computer, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the mesa when we get a lot of parrots leaving muffins?"

"I can't imagine," railed Miss Beagle.

"What are we going to do about it?" proposed Mister Computer.

"Appoint a committee?" shuddered Miss Beagle, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Computer had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," explained Miss Beagle gruffly, 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 Computer gleefully. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," mentioned Miss Beagle gratefully, thinking of all the time she'd prefer to be sitting on the pool table on her front porch, looking out over the mesa and clattering. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Computer. Do come again."

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

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

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

Miss Beagle sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," she replied flightily.