Tale about little Ruble

In the saloons in the Wild West there was an announcement: “Do not shoot a pianist. He plays as he can.” I ask you not to throw rotten tomatoes at the translator. He translates as best he can.
               
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      A king Crisis lived in one huge country. He was the same severe as a local climate. One generation gave way to another. But he seemed eternal. He had three wives. Of course, not immediately, but by turns. The first wife, a foreign princess was very arrogant. She was trying to influence the actions of her spouse, but the king had his own policy. No one was surprised when the queen gave him an inheritance named Dollarik (little Dollar), immediately picked up a gift and ran away once.
The second queen from a distant kingdom also gave birth to Evrik (little Evro). And despite the fact that the king pampered her very much, sparing neither blue nor black gold, she ran away. Like the first wife, she was taking son with her. She snitching a dowry, to which the king very much had views.
Well, having grieved, he decided to marry a third time. But already on the local princess. It must be said that all his wives, by a strange coincidence, had the same name- Economy. The latter wife was so weak. After giving birth to the twin infants, -Inflation, and the son of Rublik (little Ruble), -she died in childbirth without regaining consciousness.
But it was strangely: Inflation grew by leaps and bounds. She had a good appetite, Crisis itself did not complain about health either. But the subjects were not happy: the fatter the king became, the thinner they were.
But worst of all, the king was saddened that Rublik was so frail. 
It seemed he would not live to see tomorrow. How quickly Inflation grew, so much less was Rublik’s height.  All people hurt his feelings, and not only his friend Yuanchik (little Yuan). Though smaller, little Yuan jumped much higher.
And then there were two previous queens, as a mockery, began to send photos of their sons. Look, they say, the king, and compare what our little sons are strong and tall. Not what your Rublik.
And the sorcerers, and healers, and all sorts of economists tried to save the royal son. But in vain. He was sick, not by days, but by the hour. Then the king called his royal  council and demanded a decision on how to save his heir Rublik.
“He has a bad genetics.”-One said.-“He went to his mother, unviable.
“I wouldn’t say.”-Said another member of the council.- “You have to see that Rublik can jump. He can be stress-resistant, maybe he will survive.”
“I can’t agree.”-Said the astrologer. -“If Rublik survives, then you, the king, will die, and Inflation will follow you. You will make a decision. Some nationalities have such a custom: the patient is put in a boat and sent to float freely. And then how it goes: either he will survive or not.
If the mother were alive, maybe he would be leaving. But there is nothing to hope for.
From tears, snot and newspapers they made a ship and launched Rublik into free navigation.
There were a lot of rumors after that. Maybe he crashed on the oil platform, and drowned on the stock exchange. Someone said: he did not calculate the jump, was killed.
 And on the shore they hoped and waited: suddenly, he would survive…