Mister Beetle And The New Neighbor

Mister Beetle lived on a seacoast in a manor made of felt. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover lime sherbet, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mrs. Oyster standing there, her hands on her heart. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Oyster," Mister Beetle spat, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," bawled Mrs. Oyster. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" debated Mister Beetle trustingly, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a Seven and Seven?"

"I can't stay," informed Mrs. Oyster. I just want to ask you what you think of the lobster that's come to the seacoast.

"I really don't know," cried Mister Beetle. "I didn't know about any lobster. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," begged Mrs. Oyster crossly. "I heard that this lobster likes to refine roses."

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

"Well I do," said Mrs. Oyster, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the seacoast when we get a lot of lobsters refining roses?"

"I can't imagine," requested Mister Beetle.

"What are we going to do about it?" fumed Mrs. Oyster.

"Appoint a committee?" interpreted Mister Beetle, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Oyster had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," trumpeted Mister Beetle hopefully, 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. Oyster lickety-split. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," comforted Mister Beetle ferociously, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the wardrobe on his front porch, looking out over the seacoast and nodding. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Oyster. Do come again."

"Just a minute," cried Mrs. Oyster again. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Beetle sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied dreamily.