Why was Margie doing badly in geography? What did the County Inspector do to help her?
<answer> Margie had been doing badly in geography. This was because the mechanical teacher was very fast in displaying the questionnaire.The Country Inspector adjusted its speed upto an average ten-year level. Thus, the mechanical teacher's speed was controlled appropriately. The Country Inspector assured that the overall pattern of Margie's progress was quite satisfactory. <context> MARGIE even wrote about it that night in her diary.
On the page headed 17 May 2157, she wrote, “Today
Tommy found a real book!”
It was a very old book. Margie’s grandfather once
said that when he was a little boy his grandfather
told him that there was a time when all stories
were printed on paper.
They turned the pages, which were yellow and
crinkly, and it was awfully funny to read words
that stood still instead of moving the way they were
supposed to — on a screen, you know. And then
when they turned back to the page before, it had
the same words on it that it had had when they
read it the first time.
2. “Gee,” said Tommy, “what a waste. When you’re
through with the book, you just throw it away, I
guess. Our television screen must have had a million
books on it and it’s good for plenty more. I wouldn’t
throw it away.”
“Same with mine,” said Margie. She was eleven
and hadn’t seen as many telebooks as Tommy had.
He was thirteen.
She said, “Where did you find it?”
“In my house.” He pointed without looking,
because he was busy reading. “In the attic.”
“What’s it about?”
“School.”
3. Margie was scornful. “School? What’s there to write
about school? I hate school.”
Margie always hated school, but now she hated
it more than ever. The mechanical teacher had been
giving her test after test in geography and she had
been doing worse and worse until her mother had
shaken her head sorrowfully and sent for the County
Inspector.
4. He was a round little man with a red face and a
whole box of tools with dials and wires. He smiled
at Margie and gave her an apple, then took the
teacher apart. Margie had hoped he wouldn’t know
how to put it together again, but he knew how all
right, and, after an hour or so, there it was again,
large and black and ugly, with a big screen on which
all the lessons were shown and the questions were
asked. That wasn’t so bad. The part Margie hated
most was the slot where she had to put homework
and test papers. She always had to write them out
in a punch code they made her learn when she was
six years old, and the mechanical teacher calculated
the marks in no time.
5. The Inspector had smiled after he was finished and
patted Margie’s head. He said to her mother, “It’s
not the little girl’s fault, Mrs Jones. I think the
geography sector was geared a little too quick. Those
things happen sometimes. I’ve slowed it up to an
average ten-year level. Actually, the overall pattern
of her progress is quite satisfactory.” And he patted
Margie’s head again.
Margie was disappointed. She had been hoping
they would take the teacher away altogether. They
had once taken Tommy’s teacher away for nearly a
month because the history sector had blanked out
completely.
So she said to Tommy, “Why would anyone write
about school?”
6. Tommy looked at her with very superior eyes.
“Because it’s not our kind of school, stupid. This is
the old kind of school that they had hundreds and
hundreds of years ago.” He added loftily,
pronouncing the word carefully, “Centuries ago.”
Margie was hurt. “Well, I don’t know what
kind of school they had all that time ago.” She read
the book over his shoulder for a while, then said,
“Anyway, they had a teacher.”
“Sure they had a teacher, but it wasn’t a regular
teacher. It was a man.”
“A man? How could a man be a teacher?”
“Well, he just told the boys and girls things and
gave them homework and asked them questions.”
7. “A man isn’t smart enough.”
“Sure he is. My father knows as much as my
teacher.”
“He knows almost as much, I betcha.”
Margie wasn’t prepared to dispute that. She said,
“I wouldn’t want a strange man in my house to
teach me.”
Tommy screamed with laughter. “You don’t know
much, Margie. The teachers didn’t live in the
house. They had a special building and all the
kids went there.”
“And all the kids learned the same thing?”
“Sure, if they were the same age.”
8. “But my mother says a teacher has to be adjusted to
fit the mind of each boy and girl it teaches and that
each kid has to be taught differently.”
“Just the same they didn’t do it that way then.
If you don’t like it, you don’t have to read the book.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t like it,” Margie said quickly.
She wanted to read about those funny schools.
They weren’t even half finished when Margie’s
mother called, “Margie! School!”
Margie looked up. “Not yet, Mamma.”
“Now!” said Mrs Jones. “And it’s probably time
for Tommy, too.”
Margie said to Tommy, “Can I read the book some
more with you after school?”
9. “May be,” he said nonchalantly. He walked away
whistling, the dusty old book tucked beneath
his arm.
Margie went into the schoolroom. It was right
next to her bedroom, and the mechanical teacher
was on and waiting for her. It was always on at the
same time every day except Saturday and Sunday,
betcha (informal):
because her mother said little girls learned better
if they learned at regular hours.
The screen was lit up, and it said: “Today’s
arithmetic lesson is on the addition of proper
fractions. Please insert yesterday’s homework in the
proper slot.”
10. Margie did so with a sigh. She was thinking about
the old schools they had when her grandfather’s
grandfather was a little boy. All the kids from the
whole neighborhood came, laughing and shouting
in the schoolyard, sitting together in the schoolroom,
going home together at the end of the day. They
learned the same things, so they could help one
another with the homework and talk about it.
And the teachers were people…
The mechanical teacher was flashing on the
screen: “When we add fractions ½ and ¼...”
Margie was thinking about how the kids must
have loved it in the old days. She was thinking
about the fun they had.