Figures carved by the boys are placed on every post of the school fence. Here is Bonnie August with his own carving. some extra songs from former years, and learning some well-worn favourites, for the parents. So the teachers, aided by a willing local pianist, and the broadcast lessons, taught the children enough songs to have two concerts. Yet you don't get so far without doubts. At first you feel confident enough, for the date of the performance is well ahead, and perhaps not even decided. But the weeks slip by and then the date becomes a threat on the horizon. Teachers confident enough in their classrooms begin to doubt the wisdom of conducting their children on the public platform. And that is the moment when someone has a brainwave…‘We could have a guest-conductor.’ This sounds pretty grand because the great symphony orchestras of the world are known to have guest-conductors, and it is also the way out, for the guest conductor is the scapegoal: And of course there are people who didn't mind being scapegoats but it is not so easy to get one to visit a fairly remote settlement like Minginui because not everyone can spare the time needed to get there. I had not seen Sid Mead, now headmaster of Minginui Maori School, since our Training College days; then we met by sheer chance at Kennedy's Bay during the Easter holiday. It was this meeting that reminded him to write to ask me if I would be their guest conductor; letters passed to and fro and finally all was settled, dates, songs, the approval of the Board and the Maori Schools' Inspectorate. I set off one lovely morning to Rotorua, on to the Rainbow Mountain, along the straight pine-shadowed pumice roads of the Kaingaroa Plains to Murupara, and reached Te Whaiti by dusk. Monday dawned brilliantly fine and very cold; there was a dusting of fresh snow on the bush covered hilltops which surround Minginui. This was rehearsal day and down at the schools an atmosphere of excitement was apparent. By about 9.30 a.m. the children had all assembled at the hangar-shaped Hall, and practice had begun. Two taperecorders whirred slowly in front of the stage, a mystery and novelty to many of the children. The programme worked through was a long one. It included two sections of the combined choir singing a wide variety of songs; in addition each school was to present a section of its own. Minginui Maori, the smallest group, sang Maori songs, Te Whaiti Maori performed action songs, and Minginui Forest presented percussion band items. Time slipped past on oiled wheels. We began with the massed choir. I was delighted with the infectious enthusiasm of these children, as delighted in fact as they were to have some of their worst worries taken off their shoulders; when to come in, counting, how to cope with the wide range of European songs. What smiles of relief spread over those eager happy faces! Maori children favour the smaller range which is more natural to them, and they sing with great confidence within this range with a quality of voice which is not in any way English, but which has the chesty richness of the Mediterranean peoples, the Spaniards and the Italians. There seems too to be a fundamental difference between Maori and European children in that the former prefer the slow sad songs and the latter the fast tripping ones. Perseveringly we held on notes that were being cut too short, we practised exciting changes (concluded on page 48) Sample of the boy's work from an ornate gate post.