
The speaker was the Mayor (Mr H.L. Tapley MP), who had just concluded a thrilling round of the Amusements Park with 400 delighted children from the orphanages of Dunedin. It was a happy thought on the part of the Mayor and Mayoress to conclude six months close association with the Exhibition and its visitors by giving a treat to the children that they will remember long after the Exhibition is a thing of the past.
The children were transported to Logan Park by special trams in the morning, and marched to the Sports Ground under the supervision of Mr S. Dunkley, where they were met by Mr Tapley and presented with souvenir badges. Lunch was provided, and after a tour of the courts and pavilions, and a round of the Exhibition amusements, the tired but thoroughly satisfied army of young sightseers assembled in front of the Festival Hall. The Mayoral generosity was complete in that he presented each child with a sum of money to be spent at will.
Handing it over for sport
Qualifying the grief and pain of surrendering the Exhibition is a complacent and comfortable self-righteousness. Our achievements in the impossible put Wembley to the blush. We have sailed wherever man can sail, and beyond; we have reached the Pole; we have climbed Mount Everest; we have squared the circle. Other incredible things we have done. Through the Exhibition wicket-gate we have passed the whole population of New Zealand thrice over, or pretty nearly. These facts will console us when Aladdin's Palace that rose like an exhalation shall have vanished like a dream, and when the place it has made sacred is abandoned to the flannelled fools at the wickets and the muddied oafs at the goals. — by ‘Civis’
And so farewell
To-night the New Zealand and South Seas Exhibition will close its doors, abandon its familiar turnstiles, and take its place, proudly, but pathetically, among the glories of the past. The bright promise of November 17 has been richly fulfilled, and the First of May, which has its renowned traditions, fittingly witnesses the consummation of a project which has made Dunedin more famous than it was before. From start to finish there has been no lapse of interest. The lure of Logan Park has maintained its potent charm with astonishing consistency, and sceptical doubters have long since hidden their heads in penitent shame.
“Ludistis satis” - “you have played enough” is an ancient and wholesome motto. Carnivals would lose their charm if they had a permanent duration. The solid values of the Exhibition really attach to its transient character.. The Exhibition will be sadly missed, but the sorrowful experience may be salutary. Though it is impossible to gauge indirect results, there is no reason to doubt that the lasting effect will be beneficial. But helpfulness in this direction must be associated with an honest endeavour to realise the lessons of these last five and a-half months and to take care that the experience is not wasted.
There will be a sound of revelry at Logan Park to-night. And there will, at the last moment of all, be many a wistful backward glance at the vanishing scene which has become familiar and endeared. And so “Farewell, a word that must be, and hath been, a word that makes us linger - yet Farewell!” — editorial
— ODT, 1.5.1926











