further query.
A colored girl came to the door. To the inquiry whether her mistress was
within, she answered in the affirmative. "Tell her I wish to see her,"
said Friend Hopper. The girl was evidently astonished at a visitor in
Quaker costume, and of such grave demeanor; but she went and did the
errand. A message was returned that her mistress was engaged and could
not see any one. "Where is she?" he inquired. The girl replied that she
was up-stairs. "I will go to her," said the importunate messenger.

The mistress of the house heard him, and leaning over the balustrade of
the stairs, she screamed out, "What do you want with me, sir?"

In very loud tones he answered, "James Simpson, a minister of the
Society of Friends, has appointed a meeting to be held this afternoon,
in Penrose store, Almond-street. It is intended for publicans, sinners,
and harlots. I want thee to be there, and bring thy whole household with
thee. Wilt thou come?"

She promised that she would; and he afterward saw her at the meeting
melted into tears by the direct and affectionate preaching.

THEFT FROM NECESSITY.

One day, when the family were in the midst of washing, a man called at
Isaac T. Hopper's house to buy soap fat, and was informed they had none
to sell. A minute after he had passed out, the domestic came running in
to say that he had stolen some of the children's clothes from the line.
Friend Hopper followed him quickly, and called out, "Dost thou want to
buy some soap-fat? Come back if thou dost."

When the man had returned to the kitchen, he said, "Now give up the
clothes thou hast stolen."

The culprit was extremely confused, but denied that he had stolen
anything.

"Give them up at once, without any more words. It will be much better
for thee," said Friend Hopper, in his firm way.

Thus urged, the stranger drew from his bosom some small shirts and
flannel petticoats. "My wife is very sick," said he. "She has a babe two
weeks old, wrapped up in an old rag; and when I saw this comfortable
clothing on the line, I was tempted to take it for the poor little
creature. We have no fuel except a little tan. A herring is the last
mouthful of food we have in the house; and when I came away, it was
broiling on the hot tan."

His story excited pity; but fearing it might be made up for the
occasion, Friend Hopper took him to a magistrate and said, "Please give
me a commitment for this man. If he tells a true story, I will tear