Party Shoes

    john had no intention of rewriting. his scene.
    'It's later than that. It's the end of the Middle Ages
some time.'
    The doctor hated his family to be lazy-minded.
'Who was. on the throne?'
    John had not really decided that.
    'One of the Henrys, or Edward the Fourth.' He
thought of an excuse. 'It depends on what clothes are
easiest tn hire. A boy would go to school at the Abbey in
any of those reigns,wouldn't he?'
    The vicar,with a sigh,gave up hope of acting the part
 of Augusting.
    'l should conceive that even in those dark, troubled
days a father would not break his son's education without good caude.'
    The doctor flicked some ash on to the grass .
    'I imagine knightly training came firsts and learning a long way
second.'
     The vicar shook his head.
     'Not with the type of family we have in mind,The father must have
cared for learning to send his boy to the monks.'
     John had a queer feeling that he had not invented his boy ,but
that he was real.
     'There was always a war somewhere .You've come for your son,Dad,
to be your esquire.'
    The doctor looked at the vicar .
    'He's right there. When weren't we at war in the Middle Ages?
I think we can allow there was a war on'.
    Tbe vicar was glancing towards his. daffodils.
    'Very true. Most regrettable though. A boy, of John's
age. Living amongst coarse, rough soldiers.'
    John rais.ed his voice.
    'Will yott act the Abbot, sir?'
    'Very well,my boy.This is a lovely flower,Doctor.
Look at the lemon tint of the trumpet.'
    John gave his father a pleading look.The doctor once again held the vicar by the elbow.