Youth and age come to pay tribute to King Koroki Yes, it was a great meeting, giving much food for thought. Everything ran according to plan, under the able hand, sharp eye and ready wit of Dr Winiata, who called each group of late arrivals to “come on to the Marae, and be welcomed in full ceremony.” And welcomed they were! With the kuia (elderly women) calling from a forward position, and retreating before the visitors, to the verandah of Mahinarangi, the carved meeting house. Then the orators took over, standing forth, as words of welcome came bubbling out of lips well versed in this type of speech, interspersed with songs or waiata of historic lore. They were in their element, but my heart beat faster for those brave youths who rose to the occasion, endeavouring to meet their elders on even ground, and finding it uncannily uneven, for that same old Grandpop who seemed to be the odd man out at home, had here emerged as a scion of high intellect, with power of speech and song, and the bearing of a true rangatira. However, the team Captains were proud to receive their fine trophies at the hands of Princess Piki. One cannot say too much for the spirit behind everything, the happy goodwill with which everything was done, the huge dining rooms—all staffed by willing and obliging waiters and waitresses. Kimi Kimi alone seated three hundred and forty a time, and there were three others. The scene on the last day was one of dash and colour and action, with a pipe band, marching teams and basketball teams in full kit, and any slow moments were covered by the handsome Kaikohe Ratana Band also in full kit and fine trim. Cultural features were not forgotten: Maori carvers had been specially invited to a discussion on their craft; a group of young Maori painters and sculptors from Tokerau had brought down an exhibition. Finally, as though the programme were still not full enough, there was the Talent Quest on the last night, opened by the Choir, which had already contributed much to the meeting, under the very able baton of Mr Peter Ward of Mangakino. There was a juvenile group, with youngsters swaying and huddling their way through up-to-the-minute rock'n'roll numbers, to the jungle beat of guitars, there was a junior group doing the same with a vengeance, and one little acrobat who curled and twisted and curled some more, to everyone's delight. There was the Senior group, with sacred songs and sudden switches to the clap, clap, snap, snap, boogey style, and a mighty good mimicry of the swaying, all-shook-up Elvis Presley and Pat Boone and other heart-throbs. A huge programme, packed into three days and nights, and of course with all the modern equipment such as cameras and tape recorders it will probably be all recorded for posterity, and should the world last, it will be all gone over again to another hundred years.