entirely new experience to me. It frightened me thoroughly. ‘Would you like to leave it till after lunch, and think it over?’ asked Mr Burton. ‘Oh no,’ I said, ‘thinking won't make any difference.’ Mr Burton collected some of his charges. We met in the library. Everybody sat around two large tables that had been placed together. I started the ball rolling by telling briefly about Te Ao Hou. Nobody had heard of it. Then a round-table discussion began which really excited the headmaster and myself, and which would, I think, have excited anyone who is interested in New Zealand's racial relations. Here were some of the most intelligent children of a country high school of about 170 pupils, all around sixteen years of age, and ready to go into the great big world. Some 15 per cent of the high school enrolment is Maori, and the Maori element was well represented at the discussion. Like most New Zealand schools, this one is quite free from any racial feeling; pakeha and Maori mix freely. The head prefect, Albert Wharemate, is a Maori. The school has a professional, a commercial and a rural course. There is no suggestion whatever of Maori pupils being more numerous or more proficient at one course than at another. I was struck by the noble and generous spirit of the discussion. I have had lots of talks to adults on the same subjects, and my experience is they tend to be on a less exalted level. It was now twelve o'clock. Others needed the library. So we moved to a delightful sunny classroom, where the discussion was continued until lunch, at half-past twelve. Self-portrait by Albert Wharemate ‘If Te Ao Hou was to be distributed in schools,’ I asked, ‘what do you think should be in it?’ The answer to that was immediate and unanimous. They all wanted Maori myths and legends. They would also like art, carving, and so forth. Right through the discussion a lead-