On reaching home she found a neighbor waiting outside, who entered with her, in the meantime pouring into the ever sympathetic ears her trouble.

She was bewailing over the downfall of her boy who heretofore had been exceptionally dutiful, invariably spending his evening at home, but of late all was changed. He had contracted the card disease with all its adherent vices, which was rapidly developing into a mania. His salary, which was the home support, was being sacrificed on the gambling altar.

Here was more work. The only son and mainstay of a widowed mother fast going to ruin. Yes, something must be done.

Early the following evening the Witch made it her business to pay a visit to the widow about tea time. The son was hurriedly finishing his meal preparatory to starting out for the night, when somehow he changed his mind and stayed at home instead, and our friend, the Witch, knew that in future he would have sufficient strength of will to pass by his old haunt and on home to his waiting loving mother with his earnings in his pocket, which meant more home comforts, more books and evening reading, and happiness to both.

The Witch went home well satisfied with her day's work, and that night thought and planned for the good of humanity. Why not venture further into a wider range for action?

She might peddle her songbirds from door to door, and in this capacity gain access into houses where she could more readily acquaint herself with those in need of her assistance.