Progress in Education In his annual report tabled recently in the House of Representatives, the Director of Education, Dr C. E. Beeby, stated that the age gap between Maori and European children reaching Form II and passing on to secondary school is steadily shrinking. Maori children, by and large, were now reaching Form II and passing on to post-primary school not more than a year older than European children, he said. Eighty-two per cent of Maoris who left Maori primary schools at the end of 1954 went on to post-primary school, as did 74 per cent of those leaving public schools. The combined percentage was 78, compared with 76 in the previous year. Many Maoris do very well at post-primary schools, says the report, but others, for one reason or another, do not fulfil the promise they gave in their primary courses, particularly when they attend large post-primary schools. Head teachers of Maori schools frequently express concern at the large number of promising pupils who leave post-primary school before they have completed even two years, and drift into seasonal and unskilled occupations. It is suggested that the problem would repay more intensive study.

The Talking Shell ((continued from p. 23) necessary to get the toheroa to Ngongotaha while they were still fresh and in good condition. The first relay of slaves had only a short distance to go before the second relay took over. The second lot reached the third relay and these raced away swiftly. In this way the ground was covered very quickly as each relay were rested and fresh for their section of the trip.’ ‘How long did it take Ihenga's slaves to reach Ngongotaha from Whakatane?’ asked Matiu. ‘It took exactly twelve hours for the return journey,’ said the pipi shell. ‘Of course conditions were good and they didn't meet any enemy people. Ihenga followed at a much slower pace and when he at last arrived home and climbed Ngongotaha to visit his friends he found the old chief very well indeed and able to talk of nothing else but his wonderful meal of fresh toheroa. Ihenga's friendship with the fairies became even closer after that and when he went off on one of his more adventurous exploring expeditions some of the patupaiarehe went with him. They journeyed as far as Moehau on the Coromandel peninsula and although Ihenga has long since joined his ancestors, the patupaiarehe are still on misty Moehau mountain. People say the music of their flutes can often be heard drifting down to the plains below.’ ‘Thank you, pipi shell for a very interesting story,’ said Matiu, ‘But I suppose you are really a toheroa shell and you came from Whakatane when Ihenga's slaves brought the meal for the patupaiarehe chief.’ ‘Yes, I am a toheroa shell. Never will I forget that marvellous journey from Whakatane to Ngongotaha on the back of one of Ihenga's slaves. How that man could run!’ ‘Well, I must go home,’ said Matiu beginning to put on his haversack, ‘Would you like me to take you home with me?’ ‘No, thank you, Matiu; just put me back where you found me. Leave enough of me out of the ground to feel the warmth of the sun. Thank you. Goodbye.’ ‘Goodbye,’ said Matiu. Thank you for the story.’

Music Festival ((continued from p. 30) of volume and tempo. There were the funny moments like that which occurred during the American sea shanty, ‘Blow the Cotton Down!’ ‘For the chorus I want every bit of tone you've got,’ said the conductor, and then, ‘No! no! still not loud enough … much more!’ But he didn't bargain on getting the response he did, a roaring out-of-tune chorus which would better have graced a goal at a Test match. But it was all fun. The youngsters sang with a will, delighting to watch and take their interpretation from the conductor's hands. So passed a day of hard work, when young announcers tried out their skill at speaking in public, when song dance and percussion filled the air with live and varied sound, and the stage with rhythmic movement. Processes of trial and error were checked from time to time with ‘playbacks’ on the tape-recorders. The following day I visited separate schools, rehearsed some small points, watched with interest the boys of Minginui Maori School working at their traditional Maori carvings, heads, gate-posts and lintels, in a communal effort to adorn the school grounds. Finally the evening came, and with it that asmosphere of tension and thrills which only comes when you have a real audience to perform to. As so often happens the loud-speaker system burnt out a few moments before eight o'clock and a few seconds later the tape recorded went ‘haywire’ and a mass of tape festooned itself like spaghetti on the top of the spool. But who cared … the announcers used their own voices well enough and a new tape