a sale or return basis, for all the doubtful cases. The few European farmers in the district now began to offer jobs for more pupils, and so did the shopkeepers. The children whose money was assured helped the less fortunate in labour contracts, so that the majority of our high school pupils spent the holidays in manual labour—digging drains, catching fish for sale, etc. One smallish girl, but muscular and determined, took up scrub-cutting. School Preparation Meanwhile, school lessons had been planned to prepare pupils for what they would see—subjects like the pulp and paper industry were carefully covered. There was intensive training in football and basketball. An action song party was trained with the help of the secretary of the school committee, Mrs Piripi. As action songs are not part of the daily pattern at Punaruku, this took quite some effort, our programme by the end of the term being no more than a respectable minimum. We were fortunate in our leader, a husky fellow whom I shall call Wiri. Wiri, now in the fourth form, reads haltingly and only simple words; he is beginning to do elementary fractions in arithmetic. He is boisterous, and very sensitive to his place at the bottom of any school class. Yet he has a shrewd sense in quite a few things, as one notices in classroom discussions; he makes a big effort to learn what he can, and he beamed from ear to ear when he was given his first leadership role at the school. He has all the qualities of a good haka man: rhythm, accurate movements, spirit, humour and a good voice. He did a good deal to lift the others out of their natural listlessness. Also in preparation for the tour, the children were taught some European folk dances, which would be part of our concert programme. The Last Two Days The tour began on the third day of the winter term. Our two last days can only be remembered through a haze of excitement: much of this time was spent in teaching; in handing round special exercise books, geographic sketch maps, festival programmes; in sports and dancing parties, and more especially in talking about the things that were going to happen. There was an evening concert where the community (naturally, for a fee) came to see our artistic programme. But this had more than doubled in length and interest during the term holidays. Instead of the respectable minimum we had before we now had a most varied and entertaining collection of items, some old familiars, but mostly polished up for the occasion, solo songs, comic episodes, and above all, a most vigorous performance by about 12 of the children, partly troubadour, partly Hawaiian. The enrolment troubles were over; on the first day of the term the fees of 29 pupils were definitely settled, some others were more or less resigned to staying at home, but there were three very sad faces on Monday. That evening two families changed their minds, bringing the tally of children to 32. In addition, three teachers were going, the secretary of the school committee, another Maori woman, and—our last accession, signed up just before the bus left—Waitai Pita, aged 82, commonly known in the community as Father Christmas. He was considered very sickly, but his heart was conquered by the concert; furthermore his family, on his mother's side, originally came from Motiti Island, near Tauranga. He hoped to meet some of his mother's relations on this tour and to find out more about his ancestry. In this way the school had, before the tour began, won the heart of the community, and the whole high school was most impressively uniformed. Furthermore, in spite of devoting over £40 to festival tickets, the school committee was in a healthy financial state; it did not look as though its subsidy of the tour would need to be too substantial.

III. ON THE ROAD Church College We had borrowed a guitar in a huge wooden case. The bus was so full that the case had to stand in the aisle of the bus. On our journey down to Hamilton, very soon the guitar was released from its formidable coffin, the playing and singing being interrupted as from time to time the head teacher pointed out important points in the landscape, a dairy factory, or the power scheme at Meremere. For a while there would then be questions asked about things seen from the road, notes would be written in the exercise books, after which gradually the music would start again. Although some of the Punaruku people had visited the L.D.S. Temple, the religious settlement near Hamilton was to most only a legend of sacrednes and splendour. We had our dinner in the college cafeteria, a large brightly lit hall in the spacious and opulent architecture of the recreation building. For our accommodation we were given two large recreations halls tiled with highly polished plastic. A Mormon elder came into the boys' quarters to mention a college rule: no shoes to be worn in this hall. The boys were obviously thrilled to be asked to observe a rule at this college; it established a sort of familiarity. We went through the huge gleaming gymnasium to the swimming pool, of Olympic size, fully tiled, and walled with glass. Above the pool was a large spectators' gallery. Few Church College students were at the pool, for Wednesday nights are given over to homework. Those who did swim were not exuberant like our back-country invaders; they were restrained and deliberate. The clear blue pool, the dressing rooms, the showers, the gallery above, all helped to give