Bill Clinton prefers televised town meetings to press conferences, as most of us know. But another of his preferences has been less remarked on: substituting children, rather than adults, for journalists whenever he can. Children provide those warm-hearted moments that make for great television and successful political showmanship. Thus, Clinton kicked off inaugural week festivities with a televised session in which he fielded "what did you like most about Thomas Jefferson?" questions from children at Monticello. Then, on inauguration eve, he appeared in a "Salute to Children" celebration (later broadcast on the Disney Channel), which involved a "mini-press conference" led by PBS's Mr. Rogers.

ROGERS: These are some questions that children from around the country asked me to ask you. Were you little one time?

CLINTON: (laughing warmly): Yes, believe it or not, I was little once. When I was born, I weighed only six and a half pounds!

Next, live from the White House on February 20, came an ABC Kids Town Meeting. In place of the press sat forty children, some as young as eight. Their questions were oh-so-simple and endearing. ("What was your hardest subject in school?" "What is the Brady bill?" "What do you do for fun around here?")

Clinton, for his part, was able to establish a fatherly rapport by punctuating the kids' questions with his own esteem-building commentary. ("Good for you" . . . "Great question" . . . "Give her a hand.") Moderator Peter Jennings, the only journalist on the air, dutifully kept things moving along.

Perhaps most striking were the tearjerking video-taped biographies ABC put together and aired to introduce several young questioners. This enabled the president to radiate empathy and tout a Clinton social program pertinent to each child. (A girl named Shana: "Mom and Dad . . . both have cancer and they get full benefits [at] Rockwell [but] Dad's worried about being laid off.") Etc.

The Clintonites thought the show was going so well that they agreed to extend it an extra thirty minutes to a full two hours. Afterwards, as displaced White House correspondents watched from the wings, aides rushed onto the set, gushing over what a great moment this had been for their boss. They had truly disarmed the news media.

All of which suggests a question: Could there be a way to get the president to do frequent prime-time news conferences and, at the same time, restore at least a modicum of public sympathy for the press corps? What would happen, for instance, if news organizations wooed the president by promising to adhere religously to the formula used on the ABC Kids Town Meeting? If reporters asked questions in the same spirit and seized every opportunity to come across as victims rather than as a hectoring, discourteous gang, the p.r. benefits might be considerable . . .

It is 7:00 P.M., and a prime-time press conference is getting under way, attended mainly by current and former White House regulars. Some of the questions and even more of the answers that follow are borrowed, with thanks, from Clinton's recently televised citizen forums.

PETER JENNINGS: Good evening, everybody. Let's welcome the president. (Journalists applaud as Clinton enters, waving.)

CLINTON (smiling): Wow!

JENNINGS: Who's on first?

HELEN THOMAS: Mr. President, do you help Chelsea with her homework?

CLINTON: I do. I often do math with her. I enjoy it a lot. Incidentally, my father died in a car wreck right before I was born, and my mother was away in nursing school when I was a baby. My grandparents put cards with numbers on them near my high chair and that's how I learned to count.

JENNINGS: Is that a good answer, Helen?

THOMAS: Yes.

JENNINGS: Bill?

BILL PLANTE: Mr. President, what is the capital of North Dakota?

CLINTON: That's a good question, Bill. I have an answer to that, but first let me ask you -- if you were in my position, how would you answer?

PLANTE: Bismarck.

CLINTON: Good for you. (Applause) Learning about geography is important.

JENNINGS: Before going to our next question, let's see a little bit about the questioner.

Cut to video. Scenes of angry, taunting faces. NARRATOR: "Sam Donaldson is widely vilified as pushy, obnoxious, and rude -- a cruel stereotype of his profession." (Scene of Donaldson, walking alone, head bowed.) "The irony is, in reality he, like many journalists, is caring, sensitive, polite." (Cut to scenes of Donaldson, with "dramatization" superimposed.)

DONALDSON (in crowd, approaching elevator): "After you. After you . . ." (In crowded airport): "Would anyone care for this seat?"

Video ends. Donaldson rises from chair.

SAM DONALDSON: Mr. President?

CLINTON: Yes, Sam.

DONALDSON: Where is Socks?

CLINTON: Great question. Socks is just around the corner and downstairs. He's here all the time.

DONALDSON: To follow up, what dind of food do you feed Socks?

CLINTON: Dry cat food. I don't want to get into specifics on the air.

DONALDSON: Why not, sir?

OTHER JOURNALISTS: Ground rules! Ground rules!

CLINTON: (raising hand): No, wait. I was proud of Sam for asking that, and I think you should be, too. (Applause) I don't think it was all that easy for Sam to stand up and ask that question, because he knew he had a different position than I did on just what information should be kept private. Believe me, none of us have all the right answers. This is a new and uncharted time. And I want to encourage all of uyou to continue to believe in your country. I'm doing the best I can, Sam, and I think you are, too. (Applause)

JENNINGS: I think George has a question.

GEORGE WILL: My question is rather substantive.

JENNINGS: Well, if it's substantive, let's hold it and we'll go to a commercial and then come back to you. (Commercial break.)

JENNINGS: Welcome back. Bernie?

BERNARD SHAW: If Socks the cat were brutally tortured and murdered, how would you react as a person?

CLINTON: Great question, Bernie. Give him a hand. Isn't that wonderful? The answer, Bernie, is I would be really upset. Incidentally, as commander-in-chief of the armed forces, I want it understood that I will not hesitate to use force to defend our interests at home and around the world.

JENNINGS: A question from Dan Rather.

CLINTON: (to Jennings): Don't we have something we want to show the audience before Dan asks his question?

Cut to video, with photo montage of Rather as Depression child, fading to scene of Rather today, looking hurt as he opens mail. NARRATOR: "Dan Rather is resented by millions as an East Coast 'elitist' and gets more than his share of angry mail. But few realize that he, like President Clinton, grew up in humble circumstances, overcame big hurdles, and suffered his share of misfortunes."

Rather, in armchair, reading aloud from his autobiography, I Remember: "My best friends still call me 'Rags.' that was my name when I was growing up in the oil country outside Houston, Texas. I don't remember a soul in those years who owned a new bicycle. . . ."

NARRATOR: "Life was not always a bowl of cherries for Dan Rather. Consider the casual stroll he took in Manhattan one fateful night."

Cut to scene in which several men are pummeling a prostrate figure. ("Reenactment" superimposed). ASSAILANTS: "Kenneth, what's the frequency? What's the goddamn frequency?"

NARRATOR: "To this day, Rather has been unable to determine why he was attacked or what that uncanny question might have meant."

(Video ends. Rather rises from chair.)

DAN RATHER: Mr. President, my question is, What do you intend to do about street crime and random violence?

CLINTON: Dan, I have proposed a program to put 100,000 more police officers on our streets, including officers who could be stationed in and around areas where prominent newsmen go out at night.

RATHER: Mr. President, another thing. There's always a story in back of the story; I learned that as a boy. So I was wondering, Why do you call your cat Socks?

CLINTON: (holding up Socks): Because he has white paws. He's a black cat with white paws.

JENNINGS: Who's next? And can we have a topic besides Socks the cat?

TED KOPPEL: Darn. Okay. Mr. President, what color socks are you wearing today? And does the color have any particular meaning for you?

CLINTON: (pauses, biting lower lip): My socks are navy blue. I have early associations with the color blue. My father died in a car crash before I was born, and my mother was away, and my grandparents tacked cards of different colors on a window beside my high chair. That's how I learned my colors. Bob?

ROBERT NOVAK: I have a wonderful old bird dog named Rex, and the vet says he's very sick and needs a heart transplant but no heart is available. Can you help?

CLINTON: (sadly shaking his head, then seating himself on a stool beside Novak): Wow. (Gently, putting a hand on Novak's shoulder.) I guess that dog don't hunt?

NOVAK: No, he just sits in his basket.

CLINTON: Well, you know, bob, as president I can't do anything about it except speak about it. Maybe Rex will get a new heart because we were here talking about this. We've got our fingers crossed -- we'll be with you 'til the last dog dies. Thanks for sticking up for your retriever. Let's give Bob and Rex a hand. (Applause)

RATHER: (interjecting): Courage!

JENNINGS: Well, Mr. President, time's up. It was surely a rare treat to be able to come in and talk with you. (To journalists) Did you have a great time? Was he terrific or what? (Murmurs of assent).

CLINTON: I loved it. You were terrific. And I felt great about the future just listening to you. I want you to continue holding me accountable and asking the tough questions.

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