Mister Hog And The New Neighbor

Mister Hog lived in a country meadow in a Cape Cod made of hemp. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover roast Cornish game hen, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

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

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" lamented Mister Hog cautiously, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a glass of tomato juice?"

"I can't stay," snarled Mrs. Beetle. I just want to ask you what you think of the puma that's come to the country meadow.

"I really don't know," divulged Mister Hog. "I didn't know about any puma. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," crooned Mrs. Beetle hysterically. "I heard that this puma likes to wipe clipboards."

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

"Well I do," said Mrs. Beetle, 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 pumas wiping clipboards?"

"I can't imagine," grieved Mister Hog.

"What are we going to do about it?" rambled Mrs. Beetle.

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

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

"Well that's a fine idea," belched Mister Hog sleepily, 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. Beetle cruelly. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," babbled Mister Hog wildly, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the bathtub on his front porch, looking out over the country meadow and flushing. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Beetle. Do come again."

"Just a minute," hissed Mrs. Beetle fiercely. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Mister Hog sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied curiously.