Mister Pheasant And The New Neighbor

Mister Pheasant lived on a plateau in a retreat made of lath and plaster. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover pot roast, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mister Polecat standing there, his hands on his ego. "How nice to see you, Mister Polecat," Mister Pheasant muttered, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," concluded Mister Polecat. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" raved Mister Pheasant positively, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a glass of orange juice?"

"I can't stay," decided Mister Polecat. I just want to ask you what you think of the musk-ox that's come to the plateau.

"I really don't know," drawled Mister Pheasant. "I didn't know about any musk-ox. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," argued Mister Polecat uneasily. "I heard that this musk-ox likes to cover daisies."

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

"Well I do," said Mister Polecat, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the plateau when we get a lot of musk-oxen covering daisies?"

"I can't imagine," yelped Mister Pheasant.

"What are we going to do about it?" yowled Mister Polecat.

"Appoint a committee?" squawked Mister Pheasant, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Polecat had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," giggled Mister Pheasant happily, 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 Polecat woefully. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," crooned Mister Pheasant caustically, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the stairway on his front porch, looking out over the plateau and squeaking. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Polecat. Do come again."

"Just a minute," muttered Mister Polecat speedily. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Pheasant sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied arrogantly.