"Frontier"

Last week, a bronze-skinned buckaroo, with a flashing red neckerchief above his blue shirt, with shining leather chaparejos and crimson saddle-blanket, dashed up from a Western skyline on a snorting, piebald cow-pony. Standing in his stirrups, leaning over the pommel, swinging a great lariat as he came, he gallivanted right onto the country's newsstands, into peoples' hands, on to library, kitchen, schoolboy and other tables. He was a creation of the late Frederic Remington, famed cowboy-and-Indian portrayer. He was on the cover of The Frontier, a new adventure-story magazine offered to the humdrum world by Doubleday, Page & Co. Over him swung a long frontiersman's flintlock rifle. Over him burned the big red Lone Star of Texas.

Said the publishers : "We have a firm belief in the vitality of the frontier tradition in American life." Obviously they had--firm enough to spend money testing that vitality. The stories were, and will be, trailblazing, pioneering, exploring tales, of the West and of all other frontiers, including the sea--each, by the way, complete in one instalment. A visit to The Frontier costs 25-c-.