"It was way out on the Western frontier—Do you know what a frontier is?" suddenly interrupting himself.
No, the children did not know what a frontier was.
"A frontier," continued November, "is the edge of civilization; and rough and shaggy enough it is, as edges are apt to be. It is the battle-ground where men and Nature meet and fight it out. Ah! the men have hard times there, I can tell you. They have to turn to and use every bit of stuff that is in them, or they get the worst of the conflict. But Nature is a friendly foe. When she has proved them, she grows kind. The trees fall, the stumps come out of the ground. Every year the work done tells more and more; and the frontier is pushed farther and farther away. By and by there won't be any frontier left, the whole land will be civilized; and people will have every thing they desire,—brick houses, churches, shops, ice-cream saloons, and copies of Tupper's Proverbial Philosophy.
