One evening Lucy said: "Mother, I called at a lovely home today where were a great variety of beautiful birds and strange little animals in big cages in the yard. The gentleman who was feeding and caring for them seemed pleased at my interest, leaned over the fence and conversed with new about them, telling where he had discovered some, how costly were others, what special care and food most of them required, and much more; but oh! Mother dear, he had no use, no time for Jesus, or anything relating to him. He turned away and left me when I tried to tell him. Isn't he to be pitied? I had better success a few doors higher up. The lady was very kind. She put her name down for one dollar. I've collected $---- for the fund today," and she smiled with joy as she handed me the money. One reputed wealthy woman, after hearing my story, highly commended the enterprise and said, "I would be glad to help you, but all I can spare I contribute to the Salvation Army." I pleaded further, but in vain. Later, and quite by accident, we learned that her contribution consisted in occasionally purchasing a _War Cry_. What a sad, sad accounting will have to be given by many on that day when the Judge of all the earth shall sit upon his throne! Several of the local pastors manifested most kindly consideration, some gave lists of names of charitably disposed people, and a few invited me to share their pulpits. Never shall I forget the day when Lucy and I called at a handsome residence on Washington Street. The door was opened by one of the most spiritual-countenanced young ladies I have ever had the pleasure of meeting, and from that day to this she has been one of my warmest, most loyal friends--Sister B---- G----. More times than I can count I have acted upon and profited by her wise and kindly advice, and never did she fail me with sympathy and help in a trying hour. Her widowed mother was the first large contributor to the fund. Only God knows my heart's gratitude the day she handed me that cheque for one hundred dollars. Through the daughter I learned who had spiritual charge of the jail work, and soon, acting on her suggestions, made the acquaintance of Mrs. Mason. She invited us to attend the following Sunday morning services at 9:30 o'clock. In consequence of my responding, the next chapter will relate the sad story which came to me from the lips of a youth sentenced to Folsom penitentiary for ninety-nine years. We soon located the neighborhood of the poor wandering girls, where many gladly bade Lucy and me welcome. Also, we were informed that, owing to circumstances at that time, the only religious people who would be admitted to certain houses were Salvation Army lassies. Learning our errand, one of these kindly disposed women of God accompanied us, we wearing bonnets loaned for this occasion. The landlady of one of these houses was the one we met on the train, when Callie accompanied me to San Francisco on that important trip.