Pure Collective Bargaining or--The Burden Of Spotless Power

Economist at Fayetteville, Arkansas

It was a chilly evening

At story-telling time.

Old Kaspar chewed a dead cigar

and nursed his rum-and-lime,

While Peterkin and Wilhelmine

Warmed up the futurama screen.


They saw a squad of marching men,

All dressed in dazzling white,

Who halted where a factory gate

Was bathed in neon light.

Then facing left and hoisting signs

They blocked the gate with solid lines.


"Now tell us what it’s all about!"

The little children cried.

"It’s Pure Collective Bargaining,"

Old Kaspar soon replied.

"They’ll keep blockades at all the gates

Until the firm capitulates."


"But why are pickets dressed in white?"

Asked little Peterkin.

"It symbolizes Purity,"

Said Kaspar with a grin.

"The unions say they’ve purged their ranks

Of robbers, thugs, and mountebanks."


"It seems a very great reform,"

Breathed little Wilhelmine.

"It does indeed," Old Kaspar sighed,

"The greatest ever seen.

But still the cost of living soars

And wealth escapes to foreign shores."