In the month of May flowers crowd upon us in numbers so great that we are at a loss for a time to study them. Even if April has been cold, the matchless arbutus has found time to bloom above last year’s protecting leaves and has passed away, leaving only a memory of its fragrance and rosy beauty. The dandelions--jolly, popular, child-beloved gold of the spring--have bloomed, and in May the grass is covered with their delicate clocks; we still, in early May, find the oxalis almost making a carpet for the pasture lands or sunny hillsides. When the oxalis grows in damp shade its flowers and leaves are larger and of a deeper color, but the blossoms are fewer. The leaf of the oxalis is three-divided, like the coarser leaf of the clover. Some hold that it was the oxalis and not the shamrock leaf which good St. Patrick took to prove the possibility of Trinity--one in three. Some think that really the oxalis and not the clover was the shamrock of the ancient Irish. May brings us an abundance of wild violets; the blue violets and the beautiful tri-colored pansies come in April, but the blue violets linger, growing larger and richer, while their cousins, the dainty white and the branching yellow violets, appear in the cool, damp woods. The wild violets are scentless, except for the spicy “woods odor” that seems to hang about all wild flowers. [Illustration: NATURE’S FAVORITES] A much humbler flower than the violets greets us on the roadsides--the bright yellow cinquefoil, its vine leaves, and blossom bearing resemblance to the strawberry, so that the county people call them “yellow-flowered strawberries.” Common as the cinquefoil is, it belongs to a noble, even royal, family among flowers--the rose. It is a poor cousin of the garden’s queen. WITH THE EDITOR For our name we have chosen YOUTH. This word is the fullest expression of our ambition. It stands for that period of human life toward which the very young folk look forward with pleasant anticipations, and the old look back with something like regret. It contains the suggestion of hope, vigor, and buoyancy--the ideal requisites of America’s young folks. Surely we might have looked far for a more fitting title. Although a new name to many, and therefore lacking in that esteem which only long acquaintance can give, we have every reason to expect the same generous greeting which we have heretofore received. Indeed, beginning with this issue, we shall have with us many who have known YOUTH in its earlier home. We offer them a hearty welcome and promise to do our utmost to deserve a continuation of their stanch support. * * * * *