"Robert A. Heinlein - Have Space Suit Will Travel" - читать интересную книгу автора (Heinlein Robert A)

Dad said, "Eh? Let me see that."
He read it, then told me to fetch my textbooks. I had not brought them
home, so he sent me to school to get them. Fortunately the building was open -
- rehearsals for the Fall Blow-Out. Dad rarely gave orders but when he did he
expected results.
I had a swell course that semester -- social study, commercial
arithmetic, applied English (the class had picked "slogan writing" which was
fun), handicrafts (we were building sets for the Blow-Out), and gym -- which
was basketball practice for me; I wasn't tall enough for first team but a
reliable substitute gets his varsity letter his senior year. All in all, I was
doing well in school and knew it.
Dad read all my textbooks that night; he is a fast reader. In social
study I reported that our family was an informal democracy; it got by -- the
class was arguing whether the chairmanship of a council should rotate or be
elective, and whether a grandparent living in the home was eligible. We
decided that a grandparent was a member but should not be chairman, then we
formed committees to draw up a constitution for an ideal family organization,
which we would present to our families as the project's findings.
Dad was around school a good bit the next few days, which worried me --
when parents get overactive they are always up to something.
The following Saturday evening Dad called me into his study. He had a
stack of textbooks on his desk and a chart of Centerville High School's
curriculum, from American Folk Dancing to Life Sciences. Marked on it was my
course, not only for that semester but for junior and senior years the way my
faculty advisor and I had planned it.
Dad stared at me like a gentle grasshopper and said mildly, "Kip, do you
intend to go to college?"
"Huh? Why, certainly, Dad!"
"With what?"
I hesitated. I knew it cost money. While there had been times when
dollar bills spilled out of the basket onto the floor, usually it wouldn't
take long to count what was in it. "Uh, maybe I'll get a scholarship. Or I
could work my way."
He nodded. "No doubt...if you want to. Money problems can always be
solved by a man not frightened by them. But when I said, 'With what?' I was
talking about up here." He tapped his skull.
I simply stared. "Why, I'll graduate from high school, Dad. That'll get
me into college."
"So it will. Into our State University, or the State Aggie, or State
Normal. But, Kip, do you know that they are flunking out 40 per cent of each
freshman class?"
"I wouldn't flunk!"
"Perhaps not. But you will if you tackle any serious subject --
engineering, or science, or pre-med. You would, that is to say, if your
preparation were based on this." He waved a hand at the curriculum.
I felt shocked. "Why, Dad, Center is a swell school." I remembered
things they had told us in P.T.A. Auxiliary. "It's run along the latest, most
scientific lines, approved by psychologists, and -- "
" -- and paying excellent salaries," he interrupted, "for a staff highly
trained in modern pedagogy. Study projects emphasize practical human problems