TE KORERO.

Auckland Star, Volume LX, Issue 231, 30 September 1929, Page 6

TE KORERO.

It would be difficult, I think, to find speakers more eloquent than those of the Maori nice, and I am quite sure it would be impossible for any people to enjoy the making of speeches—"te nianui korero"—more than they do. It is often said that Maoris are not particularly kind to their aged folk; be that as it may, all I know is that the old folk have a tremendous innings at these koreros and their words are listened to with great respect. On all questions concerning the welfare of the dwellers in the pa, or kainga, a big korero takes place. Bo the question toward bin- or small it is approached with the gravest deliberation. Speaker after speaker will arise and propound his views with eloquence, with dignity and with dramatic gesture most profound. Time and space are theirs; if it is impossible to finish to-night there is another whole day to-morrow iintouched. There is no worry about hall hire, for they are in their own castle—their meeting house. There are no interruptions; if there felt it is carefully hidden; each man knows that eventually his turn will come, and he, too, may go on for ever. The hearers sit stolidly smoking and never do you find one whispering to his neigh" bour as a point may strike him, as pakehas irritatingly do so often, thereby distracting the subconscious mind of the speaker. The man o» the floor is supreme. Just a week or so ago I was present at one of these koreros (fortunately there were only three old men to speak, or I should not be home yet). It was over quite a simple affair—whether the teachers of the Sunday school should hire a boatman to take them across the harbour to their labour, or whether the Maoris could find means of convoy themselves. Men and women, of all ages from grey heads and beards down to babies in arms, attend this school, aboist fifty in all, and we had threshed the matter out in pakeha talk with the young men and women. But we were told that "the old people" had something to say. The old men all spoke in turn and a young Maori interpreted as each went alona\ Much good will was expressed in flowery terms'; many were the compliments we received; in fact we were all terribly uplifted. If any youno- or old men ever thought such beautiful things of us (pakeha men, I mean) they must have kept it well in check. Then, just yesterday, I was waited on by two stalwart young Maori men about a concert. Thev had talked well into the morning amongst themselves, and as I was terribly busy I hoped they were ready to make a brief, concise pronouncement. Foolish hopes. "Well, boys," I said briskly "how are things now?" But no; there was nothing to be gained by rush methods. Amidst desultory bits of talk, long eloquent pauses, halfchewed cigarettes, gesturing hands, I rescued tho bits of information I needed. "Taihoa" is the slogan, and sometimes I feel that pakehas mi"ht borrow it, —G. EDITH BURTON , .