foot into the water and investigating an ant-nest, Moana doing cartwheels in the dam power-house (I wish I could do that!) and looking at the white silk tent of the nursery-spider, and Harvey pointing out to his two sisters from a rock the cloud-country where the Hobbits live. Superb too, is the photograph of the three children looking over the rim of the big tunnel of the dam they visit. Reproduction of the photographs is a little too grey and grainy making them look sometimes as if they've been taken on an overcast day, and the layout could have been more imaginative—for instance the visual effect of the photograph of the three children looking into the dam's big dark tunnel could have been increased if it had been ‘bled’ to the top of the page. However, this does not detract too much from one's enjoyment of the book, and the personal memories engendered by the photographs and text come through delightfully. Thankfully, the text by author Noel Hilliard is more substantial that that normally associated with books of this kind and makes ‘We Live By A Lake’ enjoyable to read as well as to look at. Cleverly wedded to the photographs, it details the adventures of discovery undertaken by Moana, Harvey and Hinemoa, who live by a lake at Mangakino. The things they get up to are things most readers will remember having done—except for cartwheels in the dam (I still wish I could do that!) perhaps—and part of the fun of reading the text is in remembering one summer holiday when you did some of the things they do. And some of the textual touches are really hardcase. Like Hinemoa outdoing her sister and brother by claiming she can see eleventyseven fish (nobody could beat that!). Like Harvey telling Moana in a pretend telephone conversation when she wants him to bring some fish and chips to her place, that she'll just have to cook her own tea tonight. And Harvey again, telling his sisters that the clouds are really the smoke from the Hobbits' houses where they're roasting mutton for their dinner. And of course, those cartwheels. I really feel jealous of you, Moana!

MY NEW ZEALAND SENIOR Short Stories collected by Bernard Gadd Longman Paul, $1.80. reviewed by Jane Ihimaera Bernard Gadd of Hillary College compiled My New Zealand ‘to help teachers in New Zealand and the Pacific Islands to find stories that students can respond to with personal understanding and enjoyment’ as a result of a need ‘for stories which were about people, places, situations that were familiar and believable to us’ and whose language sounded ‘natural and authentic’. I have quoted his intentions at some length, for this volume differs considerably from the many anthologies of New Zealand stories that have been appearing recently, which tend to have a considerable number of stories by ‘established’ authors, plus a few new ones to justify publication of yet another volume. Few of the writers represented here would score more than forty years, and although all but one of the stories have been published before, only three are dated before 1968. Perhaps not all the stories will be remembered as long as those which are regularly anthologised, but at least they help carry out Mr Gadd's intentions because they can be seen to be immediately relevant. School children are frequently put off reading anything published as long ago as the 1950s. Six of the stories are by Maori authors, including one by well-known poet Hone Tuwhare, and others deal with Maori characters; two stories are by Samoan writer Albert Wendt, which leaves about four or five purely Pakeha (or Papalagi) stories—proportions well suited to the needs of Hillary College and the many other schools in New Zealand with high Polynesian populations. The even balance will commend itself to students. The first story is one of the oldest, a Barry Crump. The idea seems to be to gain interest by using the mana which anyone who publishes a book called Bastards I Have Met will have with students, but I feel that is all one can say in its favour. The Crump style