The other day a lightning-rod man drove up in front of a handsome edifice standing in the midst of trees and shrubs in Millburg, and spoke to Mr. Potts, who was sitting on the steps in front.  He accosted Potts as the owner of the residence, and said,

“I see you have no lightning-rods on this house.”

“No,” said Potts.

“Are you going to put any on?”

“Well, I hadn’t thought of it,” replied Potts.

“You ought to.  A tall building like this is very much exposed.  I’d like to run you up one of my rods; twisted steel, glass fenders, nickel-plated tips—­everything complete.  May I put one up to show you?  I’ll do the job cheap.”

“Certainly you may, if you want to.  I haven’t the slightest objection,” said Potts.

During the next half hour the man had his ladders up and his assistants at work, and at the end of that time the job was done.  He called Potts out into the yard to admire it.  He said to Potts,

“Now, that is all well enough; but if it was my house, I’d have another rod put on the other side.  There’s nothing like being protected thoroughly.”

“That’s true,” said Potts; “it would be better.”

“I’ll put up another, shall I?” asked the man.

“Why, of course, if you think it’s best,” said Potts.

Accordingly, the man went to work again, and soon had the rod in its place.

“That’s a first-rate job,” he said to Potts as they both stood eyeing it.  “I like such a man as you are.  Big-hearted, liberal, not afraid to put a dollar down for a good thing.  There’s some pleasure in dealin’ with you.  I like you so much that I’d put a couple more rods on that house, one on the north end and one on the south, for almost nothin’.”

“It would make things safer, I suppose,” said Potts.

“Certainly it would.  I’d better do it, hadn’t I, hey?”

“Just as you think proper,” said Potts.

So the man ran up two more rods, and then he came down and said to Potts, “There! that’s done.  Now let’s settle up.”

“Do what?”

“Why, the job’s finished, and now I’ll take my money.”

“You don’t expect me to pay you, I hope?”

“Of course I do.  Didn’t you tell me to put those rods on your house?”

“My house!” shouted Potts.  “Thunder and lightning!  I never ordered you to put those rods up.  It would have been ridiculous.  Why, man, this is the court-house, and I’m here waiting for the court to assemble.  I’m on the jury.  You seemed to be anxious to rush out your rods; and as it was none of my business, I let you go on.  Pay for it!  Come, now, that’s pretty good.”

The people who were present say that the manner in which that lightning-rod man tore around and swore was fearful.  But when he got his rods off of the court-house, he left permanently.  He don’t fancy the place.

Keyser had lightning-rods placed upon his barn three or four years ago; but during last summer the building was struck by lightning and burned.  When he got the new barn done, a man came around with a red wagon and wanted to sell him a set of Bolt & Burnam’s patent lightning-rods.