Once lived a fellow Hubert Stan
Almost as good as any man.
With body strong and mind that's keen
A gift of both that rarely seen.

Now Hubert threw a mighty length
When tossing stones with all his strength.
And many men with awe are struck
When granite shards he throws and chucks

So far they leave the sight of men
Perhaps on way to earths own ends.
With many cheers this feat was met
And happy times his skill abets.

For many like to see his toss
When quick from hand a stone is lost.
Then day did come when speech was heard
Whose words the pride of Hubert spurred.

"I fail to see why uproars caused
For Huberts skills don't give me pause.
I toss a stone to greater lengths
While using even half my strength."

And Hubert hearing words is wroth
His anger works to mighty froth.
To man he walks and challenge cries
That's heard across the British skies."

"Then let a test be underway
In nearby field this very day!
We'll see whose arms a better throw
When down to contest yard we go."

And foe agrees to meet in field
To see whose arm may better yield
To either man a win or loss
That contest one a title cost.

So out to field they quickly go
On through the town they brazen strode.
And many folk do follow men
To see whose arm may better send

A stone to heavens up and high
On up into the English skies.
And folks do gather round in field
To see what ends the contest yields.

Then man who judges contests fair
Does step from crowd to soon declare.
"I bid you folk to fetch some stones
That English soils richly grown.

And paint them both a sep'rate shade
That contest winners easy named
For stones will often flee from sight
When Hubert throws with all his might."

So village gathers pair of stones
And paints them each a color lone.
That judge may tell who took the day
So man who won may have his say.

To Hubert red to stranger blue
In bid to keep the contest true.
With stones in hand they each prepare
To try and win the contest fair.

They stand on line at head of field
Their arms are drawn prepared to yield
The stones on up to British skies
In hopes that rocks their glory buys.

Then judge does step to contest start
So each may try with all their heart
To have their say and win he prize
Of greatest fame and cheering cries.

"Now toss your stones to Britain's skies
Where surely greatest glories lie!"
And Hubert throws with mighty heave
So great that stone from sight does leave.

The greatest toss he ever threw
With mighty arm so strong and true.
And pair of stones do leave their sight
When both have reached a distant height.

So all do start to march the field
To see what fate the contest yields.
And find the stones where stones may lie
That pair had tossed into the sky.

So town may know who won the day
That either man may have his say.
But during walk was Hubert struck
In back of head by poorest luck.

To ground he's thrown by jarring blow
A mighty shot that laid him low.
And up he's stand his anger great
To see who choose to strike in hate.

But down at feet his fellows stare
With jaws aslack and awe now bare.
To ground he follows gaze of men
On down to place where staring ends.

At feet the thing that strike had blew
A stone that's painted brightest blue.