Margie even wrote about it that nig

Margie even wrote about it that night in her diary. On the page headed1 May 17, 2155, 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,2 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 when they read it the first time.
"Gee," said Tommy, "what a waste. When you’re through3 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 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."
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. He was a round little man with a red face and a whole box of tools with dials and wires. He smiled at her 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 how4 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. [.] The inspector had smiled after he was finished and patted her head. [.] 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?"
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,5 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." "A man isn’t smart enough."
"Sure he is. My father knows as much as my teacher."
"He can’t. A man can’t know as much as a 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."
"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." [.] She wanted to read about those funny schools.
They weren’t even half finished when Margie’s mother called, "Margie! School!" [.] Margie went into the schoolroom. It was right next to her bedroom, and the mechanical teacher was on and waiting for her. [.] 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."
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 neighbourhood 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 on the homework and talk about it.
And the teachers were people...
The mechanical teacher was flashing on the screen: "When we add the fractions 1/2 and 1/4..." Margie was thinking about how the kids must have loved it in the old days. She was thinking about the fun they had.
(I. Asimov, from Earth Is Room Enough, Doubleday & Co., 1955)

Результаты (русский) 1:

Марджи даже написал об этом в ту ночь в своем дневнике. На странице headed1 17 мая 2155, она написала: «сегодня Томми нашли настоящую книгу!»Это был очень старая книга. Марджи дед сказал однажды, что когда он был маленьким мальчиком его дед сказал ему, что было время, когда все рассказы были напечатаны на бумаге. Они превратили страниц, которые были желтые и извивающихся, 2 и это было ужасно смешно читать слова, которые стояли еще вместо перемещения пути, они должны были - на экране, вы знаете. И тогда, когда они превратили обратно на страницу прежде, он же слова о том, что он имел, когда они читают его впервые.«Джи», сказал Томми, «что отходов. Когда вы through3 с книгой, вы просто выбросить его, я думаю. Нашего телевизионного экрана должен был иметь миллион книг на него, и это хорошо, много больше. Я бы не выбросить.» «То же, с моей. сказал Марго. Она было одиннадцать лет и не видел столько telebooks как Томми. Он был 13 лет. Она сказала: «Где вы нашли его?»«В моем доме.» Он указал не глядя, потому что он был занят чтением. «В чердак... «Каково это о?»«Школа».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. He was a round little man with a red face and a whole box of tools with dials and wires. He smiled at her 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 how4 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. [.] The inspector had smiled after he was finished and patted her head. [.] 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?"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,5 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." "A man isn’t smart enough.""Sure he is. My father knows as much as my teacher.""He can’t. A man can’t know as much as a 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." "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." [.] She wanted to read about those funny schools. They weren’t even half finished when Margie’s mother called, "Margie! School!" [.] Margie went into the schoolroom. It was right next to her bedroom, and the mechanical teacher was on and waiting for her. [.] 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." 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 neighbourhood 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 on the homework and talk about it. And the teachers were people... The mechanical teacher was flashing on the screen: "When we add the fractions 1/2 and 1/4..." Margie was thinking about how the kids must have loved it in the old days. She was thinking about the fun they had. (I. Asimov, from Earth Is Room Enough, Doubleday & Co., 1955)

Результаты (русский) 3:

марджи даже написал об этом в тот вечер в свой дневник.на странице headed1 17 мая 2155, она написала: "сегодня томми нашел настоящую книгу!""это была очень старая книга.марджи дедушка однажды сказал, что когда он был маленьким, его дед ему сказал, что было время, когда все рассказы были напечатаны на бумаге.они превратили страниц, которые были желтые и морщинистым,и это было ужасно смешно 2: слова, которые все еще стоял вместо того, чтобы двигаться так, как они должны были - на экране, ты знаешь.и тогда, когда они переворачивали страницы, это были те же самые слова, что было, когда они читали в первый раз.
"джи", - сказал томми, "расточительство.когда ты through3 с книгой, вы просто выбросить, я думаю.наше телевидение экран должен был миллион книг на нем, и это хорошо, много больше.я бы не выбрасывайте. "" у меня то же самое.говорит, марджи.ей было 11, и не видел, как многие telebooks как томми.ему было 13.она сказала, "где вы его нашли?"
"в моем доме." он отметил, не глядя, потому что он был занят чтение ".на чердаке.
"что это?"

"школа".