Unit2TheFunTheyHad课文翻译综合教程一.doc

Unit 2 The Fun They Had Margie even wrote about it that night in her diary. On the page headed May 17, 2157, she wrote, Today Tommy found a real book! It was a very old book. Margies 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 toon 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. Gee, said Tommy, What a waste! When youre through with the book, you just throw it away, I guess. Our television screen must have a million books on it and its good for plenty more. I wouldnt throw it away. Same with mine, said Margie. She was eleven and hadnt 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. Whats it about? School. Margie was scornful. School? Whats there to write about school? I hat 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 Margie and gave her an apple, then took the teacher apart. Margie had hoped he wouldnt 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 wasnt 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 mark in no time. Margie was disappointed. She had been hoping they would take the teacher away altogether. So she said to Tommy, Why would anyone write about school? Tommy looked at her with very superior eyes, Because its 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 dont 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 wasnt 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 isnt smart enough. Sure he is. My father knows as much as my teacher. Margie wasnt prepared to dispute that. She said, I wouldnt want a strange man in my house to teach me. Tommy screamed with laughter. You dont know much, Margie. The teachers didnt 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 minds of each boy and girl it teaches and that each kid has to be taught differently. They werent even half-finished when Margies mother called, Margie! School! Margie looked up. Not yet, Mamma. Now! said Mrs. Jones. And its probably time for Tommy, too. Margie said to Tommy, Can I read the book some more with you after school? Maybe, 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, because her mother said little girls learned better if they learned at regular hours. The screen was lit up, and it said: Todays arithmetic lesson is on the addition of proper fractions. Please insert yesterdays homework in the proper slot. Margie did so with a sigh. She was thinking about the old school they had when her grandfathers 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 on the homework and talk about it. And the teachers were people.Margie was thinking about how the kids must have loved it in the old days. She was thinking about the fun they had.他们的快乐 那天晚上玛吉甚至在她的日记里还写到了它。在纸的顶端她写道：2157年5月17日，今天汤米找到了一本真正的书！ 这是一本很旧的书。玛吉的爷爷曾经说过当他还是小孩的时候，他的爷爷告诉过他曾经有个时候所有的故事都是印在纸上的。 他们翻着这本纸张蜡黄，起着皱褶的书，觉得读静止的文字很有趣，而不是按照它们应该移动的方式在屏幕上时，你们知道的。然后当他们翻回上一页时，上面的文字还是和他们第一次看到的一样。 “嘿”，汤米说道，“真浪费啊！我想当人们看完这本书之后，就会把它丢掉的。我们的电视屏幕上一定有上百万本书，而且还有更多。我决不会扔掉它们。” “我也是”，玛吉说道。玛吉十一岁，她没有汤米读过的电视书多。汤米十三岁。 玛吉问道，“你在哪儿找到这本书的？”“在我的房子里，”汤米没看就一边指着一边说，因为他正忙着看书，“阁楼上。” “是关于什么的？” “学校。” 玛吉非常厌恶，“学校？上面都写了些有关学校的什么？我讨厌学校。” 玛吉一直都讨厌学校，但是她现在比以往更讨厌学校了。机器老师一次又一次地考她地理，她做得一次比一次差，最后她妈妈难过地摇摇头，请来镇上的检察员。 他矮矮胖胖的，脸红红的，带着一箱子的工具，还有刻度盘和线。他朝玛吉笑了笑，给了她一个苹果，然后将机器老师拆了。玛吉本来希望他不懂怎么样将机器重新装好，可惜他知道如何顺利装好。过了大约一小时，机器装好了，又大又黑又丑，还有个大大的屏幕，上面显示所有的课文和提出的问题。这还不那么糟。玛吉最讨厌的地方是她必须放进作业和考卷的槽口。她总是不得不用在她六岁时他们就教给她的计算机语言写作业和考卷，然后机器老师立刻就计算出分数。 玛吉很失望。她希望他们会把老师一块带走。她对汤米说，“为什么有人竟会写学校的事呢？” 汤米得意地看了看她，“因为那不是我们这种学校，傻瓜。这是几百年前的老式学校。”他又傲慢地加了一句，每个字都说得很清楚，“好几个世纪以前。” 玛吉感觉自尊心受到伤害。“噢，我不晓得几百年前的学校是什么样子。”她从汤米的背后伸过头去看了会儿书，然后说道，“不管怎样，他们是有老师的。” “他们当然有老师，但不是普通的老师。是人。” “人？人怎么可以当老师啊？” “嗯。他只是教给男孩和女孩一些东西，然