"Robert F. Young - Thirty Days Had September" - читать интересную книгу автора (Young Robert F)

how it must have been in the old days when bar-room privacy was unheard of and
you had to stand elbow to elbow with the other patrons and everybody knew how
much everybody else drank and how drunk everybody else got. Then his mind
reverted to Miss Jones.
There was a small telescreen above the drink-dispenser, and beneath it were the
words: GOT TROUBLE? TUNE IN FRIENDLY FRED, THE BARTENDER-HE'LL LISTEN TO YOUR
WOES (only 25¢ for 3 minutes). Danby slipped a quarter in the coin slot. There was
a little click and the quarter rattled in the coin return cup and Friendly Fred's
recorded voice said, "Busy right now, pal. Be with you in a minute."
After a minute and another beer, Danby tried again. This time the two-way screen
lit up and Friendly Fred's pink-jowled, cheerful face shimmered into focus. "Hi,
George. How's it goin'?"
"Not too bad, Fred. Not too bad."
"But it could be better, eh?"
Danby nodded. "You guessed it, Fred. You guessed it." He looked down at the
little bar where his beer sat all alone. "I … I bought a schoolteacher, Fred," he said.
"A schoolteacher!"
"Well, I admit it's a kind of odd thing to buy, but I thought maybe the kid might
need a little help with his TV-lessons—boxtop tests are coming up pretty soon, and
you know how kids feel when they don't send in the right answers and can't win a
prize. And then I thought she—this is a special schoolteacher, you understand,
Fred-I thought she could help Laura around the house. Things like that …"
His voice trailed away as he raised his eyes to the screen. Friendly Fred was
shaking his friendly face solemnly. His pink jowls waggled. Presently: "George, you
listen to me. You get rid of that teacher. Y'hear me, George? Get rid of her. Those
android teachers are just as bad as the real old-fashioned kind—the kind that really
breathed, I mean. You know what, George? You won't believe this, but I know.
They usta hit kids. That's right. Hit them—" There was a buzzing noise, and the
screen started to flicker. "Time's up, George. Want another quarter's worth?"
"No thanks," Danby said. He finished his beer and left.




***

Did everybody hate schoolteachers? And, if so, why didn't everybody hate
teleteachers, too?
Danby pondered the paradox all next day at work. Fifty years ago it had looked
as though android teachers were going to solve the educational problem as
effectively as reducing the size and price of the prestige-cars at the turn of the
century had solved the economic problem. But while android teachers had certainly
obviated the teacher shortage, they'd only pointed up the other aspect of the
problem—the school shortage. What good did it do to have enough teachers when
there weren't enough classrooms for them to teach in? And how could you
appropriate enough money to build new schools when the country was in constant
need of newer and better superhighways?
It was silly to say that the building of public schools should have priority over the
building of public roads, because if you neglected the country's highways you
automatically weakened the average citizen's penchant to buy new cars, thereby