Based on "Winter" by William ShakespeareWhen ghastly melons guard the door,And coloured sugars come by the bag,And fields of grass wear green no more,And leaves begin to wilt and sag. When the bones of nature litter our floor,Then Jack grows into a witchly hag,Makeup and wig Come out at last, While greedy children knock at the gate.When days grow short and nights. ”“Oh, that. No not really. I’ve never been much of a businessman, actually. Lucky, I guess. We’ve never really talked about that, have we, where I got my money, I mean.”“Er, no,” said John uncomfortably. “It’s really not my business.”“Oh, that’s all right. I don’t mind. Why don’t I just explain it over dinner, that way I won’t have to repeat the story to the girls later.”“Really,” said a flustered John Andrews. “It’s not necessary.”Malcolm simply waved the protest off. “It’s really no big.Read More
