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Te Ao Hou, June 1959, Page 16

would soon be saying goodbye to her grandson. At times she was glad he was going to be a doctor, but it was such a long way from home that he had to go. Still he was a good boy and she did not want him to finish up working on the boats or in the streets as others from the village had done when they had sought work in the city. She thought that was wrong—“The Maori belongs on his land,” she would argue, forgetting that there was no longer enough land for them all. Granny could not realise that Maori boys had to go to the cities for education and employment. To her, the city was an evil or a luxury (she did not quite know which) created by the Pakeha for the Pakeha only. But Granny was wrong. And now Rangi was talking to his son, “Get stuck into those books boy; plenty of time for the pictures. It's a busy place in the city.” Rangi briefly recalled his own days in Auckland. He had been working in the Freezing Works there for a while—for experience he always said. It was sure some place—especially for the boy from the backblocks. There were pictures every night, dances, parties and plenty of girls. That's where he met his wife. Poor old Hine—killed in a taxi accident. When she died the city seemed strangely empty and Rangi took Tuhou back to the farm—far away from the bustle and row of modern civilization. Yes, Rangi had lived in the city; Tuhou was too young to know it but Rangi knew it well and did not want his son to fall into the traps that could