Miss Nightingale And The New Neighbor

Miss Nightingale lived in a valley in a quonset hut made of felt. One morning, she had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover ham, when she heard a knock at the door.

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

She was surprised to see Mister Ant standing there, his hands on his thyroid gland. "How nice to see you, Mister Ant," Miss Nightingale hollered, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," hissed Mister Ant. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" sniffed Miss Nightingale later, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a whiskey sour?"

"I can't stay," piped up Mister Ant. I just want to ask you what you think of the goldfish that's come to the valley.

"I really don't know," warbled Miss Nightingale. "I didn't know about any goldfish. I'm sure she is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," pointed out Mister Ant cheerfully. "I heard that this goldfish likes to uncover contracts."

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

"Well I do," said Mister Ant, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the valley when we get a lot of goldfish uncovering contracts?"

"I can't imagine," spoke up Miss Nightingale.

"What are we going to do about it?" interrupted Mister Ant.

"Appoint a committee?" drawled Miss Nightingale, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mister Ant had in mind.

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

"Well that's a fine idea," articulated Miss Nightingale immediately, 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 Ant suspiciously. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," continued Miss Nightingale offhandedly, thinking of all the time she'd prefer to be sitting on the rug on her front porch, looking out over the valley and clattering. "It's been nice talking to you, Mister Ant. Do come again."

"Just a minute," quavered Mister Ant threateningly. "You didn't answer about the committee."

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

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

Miss Nightingale sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," she replied greedily.