The Yellow Stone

Once on a time it so befell --
   (Of course, you'll clearly understand
That this fantastic tale I tell
   All happened in some fabled land.
To think it could occur to us
Would plainly be ridiculous.)
 
Once on a time, so it is said,
   Depression fell upon a land;
And thousands went ill-clad, unfed,
   With corn and wine at every hand,
Because, thro' debt, they did not own
A certain magic yellow stone.
 
No man could eat this thing; no man
   Employ its shelter from the cold;
Yet sages sought, with many a plan,
   The magic it was said to hold;
While wrangling politicians raved:
"Trust us once more, and all is saved!"
 
And, while in vain these wise men strove,
   Fair in the hinterland, a rough,
Uncouth, uncultured fellow drove
   His pick in earth and found the stuff ...
Quickly the glad news spread around:
"'Tis found!  The magic stone is found!"
 
And it was so.  One man alone,
   Delving, had salved a continent.
They asked,for bread, and got a stone,
   Yet, strangely, all were well content:
For in this magic all could see
Unparalleled prosperity.
 
Then debts, to vast proportions grown
   For many a careless year on year,
Thro' the great magic of the stone
   Were all wiped clear -- or nearly clear.
Wine flowed, and motor cars again
Pursued the carefree citizen.
 
The land grew no more wine or corn
   Or wool than it before had grown;
Yet in each man was joy new born.
   (Except the man who found the stone.
He to the vnse men sold his mine,
And later died of too much wine.)
 
'Twas thus a miracle was wrought ...
   (A wild, fantastic tale, 'tis true.
But, now-a-days, we're never caught --
   Enlightened men like me and you --
By tales for lisping babes devised.
Ah, no; we are too civilised.)