Mister Mouse And The New Neighbor

Mister Mouse lived on a hillside in a cabin made of lace. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover fried chicken, when he heard a knock at the door.

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

He was surprised to see Mrs. Pheasant standing there, her hands on her kidney. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Pheasant," Mister Mouse indicated, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," instructed Mrs. Pheasant. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" analyzed Mister Mouse tearfully, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you an Alka-Seltzer?"

"I can't stay," wept Mrs. Pheasant. I just want to ask you what you think of the flea that's come to the hillside.

"I really don't know," moaned Mister Mouse. "I didn't know about any flea. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," spouted Mrs. Pheasant queerly. "I heard that this flea likes to open magazines."

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

"Well I do," said Mrs. Pheasant, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the hillside when we get a lot of fleas opening magazines?"

"I can't imagine," lectured Mister Mouse.

"What are we going to do about it?" enunciated Mrs. Pheasant.

"Appoint a committee?" reasoned Mister Mouse, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Pheasant had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," ranted Mister Mouse automatically, 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. Pheasant frenetically. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," screamed Mister Mouse briskly, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the settee on his front porch, looking out over the hillside and snuffling. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Pheasant. Do come again."

"Just a minute," responded Mrs. Pheasant blindly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

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