“Do I dream?  Man avoid man? and in danger-time, too.”

“Tall men in a thunder-storm I avoid.  Are you so grossly ignorant as not to know, that the height of a six-footer is sufficient to discharge an electric cloud upon him?  Are not lonely Kentuckians, ploughing, smit in the unfinished furrow?  Nay, if the six-footer stand by running water, the cloud will sometimes select him as its conductor to that running water.  Hark!  Sure, yon black pinnacle is split.  Yes, a man is a good conductor.  The lightning goes through and through a man, but only peels a tree.  But sir, you have kept me so long answering your questions, that I have not yet come to business.  Will you order one of my rods?  Look at this specimen one?  See:  it is of the best of copper.  Copper’s the best conductor.  Your house is low; but being upon the mountains, that lowness does not one whit depress it.  You mountaineers are most exposed.  In mountainous countries the lightning-rod man should have most business.  Look at the specimen, sir.  One rod will answer for a house so small as this.  Look over these recommendations.  Only one rod, sir; cost, only twenty dollars.  Hark!  There go all the granite Taconics and Hoosics dashed together like pebbles.  By the sound, that must have struck something.  An elevation of five feet above the house, will protect twenty feet radius all about the rod.  Only twenty dollars, sir—­a dollar a foot.  Hark!—­Dreadful!—­Will you order?  Will you buy?  Shall I put down your name?  Think of being a heap of charred offal, like a haltered horse burnt in his stall; and all in one flash!”

“You pretended envoy extraordinary and minister plenipotentiary to and from Jupiter Tonans,” laughed I; “you mere man who come here to put you and your pipestem between clay and sky, do you think that because you can strike a bit of green light from the Leyden jar, that you can thoroughly avert the supernal bolt?  Your rod rusts, or breaks, and where are you?  Who has empowered you, you Tetzel, to peddle round your indulgences from divine ordinations?  The hairs of our heads are numbered, and the days of our lives.  In thunder as in sunshine, I stand at ease in the hands of my God.  False negotiator, away!  See, the scroll of the storm is rolled back; the house is unharmed; and in the blue heavens I read in the rainbow, that the Deity will not, of purpose, make war on man’s earth.”

“Impious wretch!” foamed the stranger, blackening in the face as the rainbow beamed, “I will publish your infidel notions.”

The scowl grew blacker on his face; the indigo-circles enlarged round his eyes as the storm-rings round the midnight moon.  He sprang upon me; his tri-forked thing at my heart.

I seized it; I snapped it; I dashed it; I trod it; and dragging the dark lightning-king out of my door, flung his elbowed, copper sceptre after him.

But spite of my treatment, and spite of my dissuasive talk of him to my neighbors, the Lightning-rod man still dwells in the land; still travels in storm-time, and drives a brave trade with the fears of man.