Jeffrey, David and Samuel were best friends who shared an insatiable curiosity about the mysteries of their small town. Of all the peculiar things on Elmwood Lane, nothing intrigued them more than Mrs. Johnson's house. It wasn't exactly a mansion, but the sprawling three-story structure, garden, and ivy-covered walls seemed larger than life to the boys. Rumors swirled about Mrs. Johnson---a woman with piercing green eyes and a penchant for solitude. Some said she was a retired artist; others whispered she was a witch.

"She's definitely a witch," David whispered one afternoon as he and his friends Jeffrey and Samuel peered at her house from the safety of a tree across the street. "My cousin told me he saw her talking to her cat like it was a person."

Samuel nodded solemnly. "And remember last Halloween? No lights, no candy. Definitely witch behavior."

Fueled by their imaginations, the boys decided to test her patience. That night, armed with a carton of eggs, they crept out of their houses and approached Mrs. Johnson's property under the cover of darkness. Giggling nervously, they began lobbing eggs at the mansion's windows, the splats echoing in the still night.

But their triumph was short-lived. A porch light snapped on, and there she stood---Mrs. Johnson, in a long robe and house slippers, her green eyes flashing like emeralds.

"David! Jeffrey! Samuel!" she barked, startling the boys with her knowledge of their names.

They froze in terror, dropping the remaining eggs. Before they could run, Mrs. Johnson's firm grip was on their shoulders, dragging them toward the street.

The march to their homes felt like a death sentence. Their parents, already waiting at the door after Mrs. Johnson's phone calls, greeted them with stern faces. Mrs. Johnson recounted the prank with calm precision, never raising her voice but somehow making the boys feel two inches tall.

"We'll make sure they understand the consequences," David's mother promised, mortified.

"Oh, I've got an idea," Mrs. Johnson said, a sly smile tugging at her lips. "They'll spend some time helping me around the house. I've got plenty of chores for them to do."

The boys groaned, but their parents quickly agreed.

Mrs. Johnson greeted the boys at the door.

"Go into the changing room and change, your uniforms are inside."