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// Clyde and the Miser, Take Two 
// Story: Clyde's Tales 
// by Salivanth 
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One fine spring day, Clyde, the eminently sensible pony, happened upon a Diamond Dog next to an excavated hole. It was cradling a large dirty rock, and weeping.

Clyde said, “It seems to me that you are in need of some help.”

The Dog looked up from the rock, and snarled, “A stupid pony can’t help me.”

Clyde replied, “That may be true. But it is also said:

 “When you’re in woe
Let others know
For oft a friend
Can troubles mend.”

“Diamond Dogs can’t be friends with stupid ponies,” muttered the dog. Clyde said nothing, but only stared evenly at the dog.

“Okay, fine!” snarled the dog. “I will tell you and you can laugh at how foolish I am. I buried my treasure here, all the treasure I have, and each night I would dig it up to look at it. But some dastardly thief must have seen me, for when I dug it up last night, my treasure was gone, and there was only this stupid old rock there with a note tied to it!”

The dog held up the note, and Clyde read, “You may as well dig up and look upon this stone every night as the treasure, for all the good it ever did you.”

The dog sighed. “And that’s it. Are you going to mock me now?”

Clyde inspected the rock with an expert’s eye. “I would not leave you further bereft than you are, my friend,” said Clyde, “but I believe that you will find you are not quite so foolish as you think yourself, if you will give the care of this rock over to me.”

“Why? What could you do with this worthless rock?”

“Well, it is said that some kinds of wealth are like dandelion seeds, that work best for you when scattered widely. But some kinds of wealth are like potatoes, that do best when left planted, for to pull the plant up to check on how the roots are doing undoes all the good progress. And a similar principle applies to this rock. If you will trust me, I will do what I can to help you.”

So the Diamond Dog gave up the dull old rock, and Clyde buried it carefully in a section of his farm not far from his special treasure rock, and tended it with his skill and knowledge, and within a season the rock was starting to bear beautiful gemstones. And thus Clyde was eventually able to restore the Dog’s fortune, and the Dog became Clyde’s friend in earnest, and invested its wealth wisely in diverse ways from then on.

The moral of the story is: 
None can know all; but more the wise one sees
By heeding other’s honest expertise.