In bygone days many men upon leaving prison have been led away by old evil companions. Others have found no place to stay and no work open for them because a cold, unthinking public had called them "jail birds." Mrs. Booth wanted these men to have a chance. Today a man who belongs to the league can, upon leaving prison, be directed to the nearest Hope Hall. There he can stay in comfortable quarters until he gets work. Kind friends help him and many business firms have come to take the word of the manager of Hope Hall. They give the man work and he goes out to take his place as a man among men. Mrs. Booth has given her life to building up this league, and for many years earned all the money that was needed for running expenses. She did this by writing, and speaking in public. Everywhere she went the people listened to her story and many were glad to help her. Although we claim her as an American, Maude Ballington Booth was born in a pretty little English village. Her father was the rector of the little church, and her mother was a loving woman devoted to her home. She died when Maude was fifteen years of age and on the moss-covered stone that marks her grave are the words: "They that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament, and they that turn many to righteousness, as the stars forever and ever." From such a home the young girl went to London. There she met Ballington Booth, son of General Booth, founder of the Salvation Army. They were married and she came to the United States with him to interest Americans in the cause of the Salvation Army. This was a hard task. Oftentimes the army was jeered openly. The Booths were actually stoned while holding meetings in the streets. But this did not stop them. Their work grew, and at last they founded the Volunteers of America and became the head of this order. The busiest persons generally have time to do many things. So it was with Maude Ballington Booth, for she wrote a number of books about her work with prisoners, as well as lovely fairy tales for her little boy and girl. These children missed their mother very much when she went away to speak, so the next best thing to having her at home was to have the stories she made for them. These stories were sure to have accounts of pet animals in them, suggesting to the Booth children their own pets, and the following description of Snowball shows how well Mrs. Booth could picture the feelings of an insulted pussy cat. "The three children seated themselves by the stately white cat; slowly the ragged coat was opened and out sprang a frisky plebeian kitten right under the Angora's aristocratic nose. What a picture it was. The little black kitten startled and dazed by the light and warmth, and a great prince of a cat towering over her. Snowball was frozen into an attitude of horror at the unexpected apparition. Every hair stood erect and his back looked like a deformed hunch, while his yellow eyes flashed fire.