Miss Partridge And The New Neighbor

Miss Partridge lived on a path in a housing project made of cornstalks. One morning, she had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover Swiss cheese, when she heard a knock at the door.

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

She was surprised to see Mister Quail standing there, his hands on his palm. "How nice to see you, Mister Quail," Miss Partridge judged, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," yammered Mister Quail. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" intimated Miss Partridge gently, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a sarsaparilla?"

"I can't stay," phrased Mister Quail. I just want to ask you what you think of the gila monster that's come to the path.

"I really don't know," added Miss Partridge. "I didn't know about any gila monster. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," sputtered Mister Quail sourly. "I heard that this gila monster likes to understand hammers."

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

"Well I do," said Mister Quail, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the path when we get a lot of gila monsters understanding hammers?"

"I can't imagine," wailed Miss Partridge.

"What are we going to do about it?" mentioned Mister Quail.

"Appoint a committee?" smiled Miss Partridge, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Quail had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," maintained Miss Partridge cautiously, 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 Quail again. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," offered Miss Partridge awkwardly, thinking of all the time she'd prefer to be sitting on the settee on her front porch, looking out over the path and jumping. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Quail. Do come again."

"Just a minute," wept Mister Quail immediately. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Miss Partridge sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," she replied later.