Economist at Fayetteville, Arkansas
It was a rainy afternoon
At story-telling time.
Old Kaspar chose a strong cigar
and spiked his rum-and-lime,
While Peterkin and Wilhelmine
Looked at the historama screen.
They saw a hill where points of flame
Were sparkling on the ground,
Below the wispy clouds of smoke
That drifted all around;
While lines of men in red and white
Were moving up toward the height.
“It was a battle,” Kaspar said,
“That shook a tyrant’s reign.
When folks resisted his controls
And started to complain,
He sent the famous Lobsterbacks
To force the payment of a tax.”
“The folks entrenched upon the hill
Believed in laissez faire;
And what a working man could earn
They called his rightful share.
They’d rather fight the Lobsterbacks
Than pay the royal tyrant’s tax.”
“With folks like that,” cried Wilhelmine,
“The taxes couldn’t rise!”
“But taxes now,” Old Kaspar said,
“Have grown to monstrous size.
They swallow wealth and business firms
Just like a robin gobbles worms.”
“Can freedom last,” cried Peterkin,
“With taxes up so high?”
“There’s little talk of freedom now,”
Said Kaspar with a sigh,
“When folks are waiting on their knees
For bigger federal subsidies.”
