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 all stories were printed on paper. They turned the pages, which were yellow and crinkly, and it was awfully funny to read words.
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 headsorrowfully and sent for the Country Inspector.
Hay come we will write some paragraph on school?
School? what's there to write about school? I hate school.
The part Margie hated the most was the slot where she had to put homework and test papers, she always wanted to write then in a punch code they made her learn when she was six years old.
because after one hour or so, there would be a class, and there it was again, large and black and ugly, with a big screen on which all the lessons were shown.
why do you hate school?
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 had hundredsandhundreds of years ago.
Margi 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.
Yess they had a teacher but not like us, there were a man who teach them. But a man isn't smart enough.
I wouldn't want a strange man in my house to teach me.
sure he is. My father knows as much as my teacher.
Tommy screamed with laughter.You don't know much. Margie. The teachers din't live in the house. They had special buildingsand all the kids went there.And all the kids learned the same things...
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