“But if I must work I cannot care for my children and get them ready for school in the morning.” “Women who have children are placed, as far as possible, in companies which do their work during what are called school hours. You will be assigned to the Domestic department and its officers will place you where you belong. You will go to your work at 9 o’clock and continue until 12. You will then take an hour for your own lunch and returning to work continue until 5.” I felt great satisfaction at being able to give this poor woman information which restored almost immediately the light of hope to her careworn face. She only asked one more question. She wanted to know what would become of her children in case she should die, and when I told her that children who once entered our Department of Education were always protected, clothed and supported, without the slightest dishonor, by the Association and afterward entered our Industrial Army on equal terms with all others, she seemed so happy that the bystanders wept and I felt my own eyes grow moist. Several days after this, being anxious to learn the fate of this woman, whose name was recorded as Elizabeth Maxon, I entered, inquired at the office of the Domestic department, where she was enrolled, and learned that she had been assigned by her department chief to laundry work and that her place of residence was number 800 Pine Street. I took occasion to call there. Upon my ringing the electric bell the door was opened by a bright-faced little girl of about fifteen summers. “Is your mother at home?” I asked. “Yes,” was the reply. “Will you come in?” She ushered me through a small carpeted hallway, into a neatly furnished parlor, the floor of which was also carpeted, and the furniture in which appeared to be quite new. Having been politely offered a chair, I sat down, and being informed that “mamma” would be in directly I waited. A minute later Mrs. Maxon appeared. “Mrs. Maxon,” I said, arising, “you will doubtless look upon my visit as an intrusion, but I felt so deep an interest in your welfare, after your application and examination for membership, that I had to hunt you up. Perhaps you will remember me as the man who presided at that time. “Indeed!” she exclaimed. “Mr. Braden, certainly this is an honor and not an intrusion. You were so kind to me on that occasion that I shall never forget you. Will you be seated, sir?” I sat down again. Mrs. Maxon also seated herself. “I would be glad to learn how you fared,” I resumed. “Will you permit me to ask you a few questions?” “Yes, indeed!” was the quick answer. “I will answer any question. The people are so good to me here that I feel that you are all brothers and sisters. And see,” (she waved her hand around her), “I have never lived in such a pleasant house before. It is heated by steam which comes from pipes laid under the streets and we have water, gas and electricity.” “Do you like your work?”