upiter Tonans, I am not accustomed to be commanded in my own
house."

"Call me not by that pagan name. You are profane in this time of
terror."

"Sir, will you be so good as to tell me your business? If you seek
shelter from the storm, you are welcome, so long as you be civil; but if
you come on business, open it forthwith. Who are you?"

"I am a dealer in lightning-rods," said the stranger, softening his
tone; "my special business is--Merciful heaven! what a crash!--Have you
ever been struck--your premises, I mean? No? It's best to be
provided;"--significantly rattling his metallic staff on the floor;--"by
nature, there are no castles in thunder-storms; yet, say but the word,
and of this cottage I can make a Gibraltar by a few waves of this wand.
Hark, what Himalayas of concussions!"

"You interrupted yourself; your special business you were about to speak
of."

"My special business is to travel the country for orders for
lightning-rods. This is my specimen-rod;" tapping his staff; "I have the
best of references"--fumbling in his pockets. "In Criggan last month, I
put up three-and-twenty rods on only five buildings."

"Let me see. Was it not at Criggan last week, about midnight on
Saturday, that the steeple, the big elm, and the assembly-room cupola
were struck? Any of your rods there?"

"Not on the tree and cupola, but the steeple."

"Of what use is your rod, then?"

"Of life-and-death use. But my workman was heedless. In fitting the rod
at top to the steeple, he allowed a part of the metal to graze the tin
sheeting. Hence the accident. Not my fault, but his. Hark!"

"Never mind. That clap burst quite loud enough to be heard without
finger-pointing. Did you hear of the event at Montreal last year? A
servant girl struck at her bed-side with a rosary in her hand; the beads
being metal. Does your beat extend into the Canadas?"

"No. And I hear that there, iron rods only are in use. They should have
_mine_, which are copper. Iron is easily fused. Then they draw out the
rod so slender, that it has not body enough to conduct the full electric
current. The metal melts; the building is destroyed. My copper rods
never act so. Those Canadians are fools. Some of them knob the rod at
the top, which risks a deadly explosion, instead of imperceptibly
carrying down the current into the earth, as this sort of rod does.
_Mine_ is the only true rod. Look at it. Only one dollar a foot."

"This abuse of your own calling in