“Art thou quite sure about the age of the moon?” inquired the pretended magician.  Being assured there was no mistake on that point, he ciphered again for a few minutes, and then answered, “Thou wilt find the thief in the hands of the police.”

The Dutchman went away, evidently inspired with profound reverence.  Having found his goods and the thief, according to prediction, he returned and asked for a private interview.  “Tell me dat secret,” said he, “and I will pay you a heap of money.”

“What secret?” inquired Friend Hopper.

“Tell me how you know I will find mine goots, and where I will find de tief?” rejoined he.

“The plain truth is, I guessed it,” was the reply; “because I had heard there was a thief at the police office, with such goods as thou described.”

“But what for you ask about de moon?” inquired the Dutchman.  “You make figures, and den you say, you will find your goots.  You make figures again, den you tell me where is de tief.  I go, and find mine goots and de tief, just as you say.  Tell me how you do dat, and I will pay you a heap of money.”

Though repeatedly assured that it was done only for a joke, he went away unsatisfied:  and to the day of his death, he fully believed that the facetious Quaker was a conjuror.

When Friend Hopper hired one of two houses where the back yards were not separated, he found himself considerably incommoded by the disorderly habits of his next neighbor.  The dust and dirt daily swept into the yard were allowed to accumulate there in a heap, which the wind often scattered over the neater premises adjoining.  The mistress of the house was said to be of an irritable temper, likely to take offence if asked to adopt a different system.  He accordingly resolved upon a course, which he thought might cure the evil without provoking a dispute.  One day, when he saw his neighbor in her kitchen, he called his own domestic to come out into the yard.  Pointing to the heap of dirt, he exclaimed, loud enough to be heard in the next house, “Betsy, art thou not ashamed to sweep dust and litter into such a heap.  See how it is blowing about our neighbor’s yard!  Art thou not ashamed of thyself?”

“I didn’t sweep any dirt there,” replied the girl.  “They did it themselves.”

“Pshaw!  Pshaw! don’t tell me that,” rejoined he.  “Our neighbor wouldn’t do such an untidy thing.  I wonder she hasn’t complained of thee before now.  Be more careful in future; for I should be very sorry to give her any occasion to say she couldn’t keep the yard clean on our account.”

The domestic read his meaning in the roguish expression of his eye, and she remained silent.  The lesson took effect.  The heap of dirt was soon removed, and never appeared afterward.