There once was a man named John the Magnificent. At least, that’s that he called himself. He lived near our home in Ireland a long time ago. I only know about him because of the effort he put in to proving his chosen name—because his manor house really is magnificent, and is still surrounded by gorgeous gardens that are now open to the public (I’m not sure John would approve of this, but he hasn’t said anything). In John’s day, a garden was a great way to display your wealth. His arboretum includes exotic specimens from around the world, and his greenhouses were so well designed and equipped that he was able to serve his guests home-grown pineapples—in Ireland!
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