igh houses, lonely barns, upland
pastures, running water, flocks of cattle and sheep, a crowd of men. If
I travel on foot--as to-day--I do not walk fast; if in my buggy, I touch
not its back or sides; if on horseback, I dismount and lead the horse.
But of all things, I avoid tall men."

"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. Fal