Duo-Millllennnial post

It turns out that today, the Beaker Folk weren't partying like it was 1999. They were moping. I didn't make it to the Dead Poets Day, but by the time I made it to the White Horse, Young Keith was sitting around drinking and being morose.

He cheered up when he saw me - and who wouldn't - and hastily pushed what seemed to be another book about economics under his coat. He started talking about money, and borrowing some, and rates or return and some such.

I suspect he has a scheme on the go.