Another time, when he found two Irishmen quarrelling, he stepped up and inquired what was the matter.  “He’s got my prayer-book,” exclaimed one of them; “and I’ll give him a bating for it; by St. Patrick, I will.”  “Let me give thee a piece of advice,” said Friend Hopper.  “It’s a very hot day, and bating is warm work.  I’m thinking thou had’st better put it off till the cool o’ the morning.”  The men, of course, became cooler before they had done listening to this playful remonstrance.

Once, when he was travelling in the stage, they passed a number of Irishmen with cart-loads of stones, to mend the road.  Friend Hopper suggested to the driver that he had better ask them to remove a very large stone, which lay directly in the way and seemed dangerous.  “It will be of no use if I do,” replied the driver.  “They’ll only curse me, and tell me to go round the old road, over the hill; for the fact is, this road is not fairly opened to the public yet.”  Friend Hopper jumped out, and asked if they would turn that big stone aside.  “And sure ye’ve no business here at all,” they replied.  “Ye may jist go round by the ould road.”  “Och!” said Friend Hopper, “and is this the way I’m trated by my coontryman?  I’m from Ireland meself; and sure I did’nt expect to be trated so by my coontrymen in a strange coontry.”

“And are ye from ould Ireland?” inquired they.

“Indade I am,” he replied.

“And what part may ye be from?” said they.

“From Mount Mellick, Queen’s County,” rejoined he; and he began to talk familiarly about the priest and the doctor there, till he got the laborers into a real good humor, and they removed the stone with the utmost alacrity.  The passengers in the stage listened to this conversation, and supposed that he was in reality an Irish Quaker.  When he returned to them and explained the joke, they had a hearty laugh over his powers of mimicry.

His tricks with children were innumerable.  They would often be lying in wait for him in the street; and if he passed without noticing them, they would sometimes pull at the skirts of his coat, to obtain the customary attention.  Occasionally, he would observe a little troop staring at him, attracted by the singularity of his costume.  Then, he would stop, face about, stretch out his leg, and say, “Come now, boys!  Come, and take a good look!” It was his delight to steal up behind them, and tickle their necks, while he made a loud squealing noise.  The children, supposing some animal had set upon them, would jump as if they had been shot.  And how he would laugh!  When he met a boy with dirty face or hands, he would stop him, and inquire if he ever studied chemistry.  The boy, with a wondering stare, would answer, “No.”  “Well then, I will teach thee how to perform a curious chemical experiment,” said Friend Hopper.  “Go home, take a piece of soap, put it in water, and rub it briskly on thy hands and face.  Thou hast no idea what a beautiful froth it will make, and how much whiter thy skin will be.  That’s a chemical experiment.  I advise thee to try it.”