THE LIGHTNING-ROD DISPENSER.
IF the weary world is willing, I've a little word to say
Of a lightning-rod dispenser that dropped down on me one day,
With a poem in his motions, with a sermon in his mien,
With hands as white as lilies, and a face uncommon clean.
No wrinkle had his vestments, and his linen glistened white,
And his new-constructed necktie was an interesting sight;
Which I almost wished his razor had made red that white-skinned throat,
And the new-constructed necktie had composed a hangman's knot, Ere he brought his sleek-trimmed carcass for my woman folks to
And his rip-saw tongue a-buzzin' for to gouge a gash in me.
But I couldn't help but like him—as I always think I must,
The gold of my own doctrines in a fellow-heap of dust;
When I fired my own opinions at this person, round by round,
They drew an answering volley, of a very similar sound
I touched him on religion, and the hopes my heart had known;
He said he'd had experiences quite similar of his own.
I told him of the doubtin's that made dark my early years;
He had laid awake till morning with that same old breed of
I told him of the rough path I hoped to heaven to go;
He was on that very ladder, only just a round below.
I told him of my visions of the sinfulness of gain;
He had seen the self-same picters, though not quite so clear and plain.
Our politics was different, and at first he galled and winced;
But I arged him so able he was very soon convinced.
And 'twas getting toward the middle of a hungry summer day;
There was dinner on the table, and I asked him would he stay?
And he sat down among us, everlasting trim and neat,
And asked a short, crisp blessing, almost good enough to eat;
THE LIGHTNING-ROD DISPENSER.
Then he fired up on the mercies of our Great Eternal Friend,
And gave the Lord Almighty a good, first-class recommend;
And for full an hour we listened to the sugar-coated scamp,
Talking like a blessed angel-eating like a―blasted tramp.
My wife, she liked the stranger, smiling on him warm and sweet
(It always flatters women when their guests are on the eat),
And he hinted that some ladies never lose their early charms,
And kissed her latest baby, and received it in his arms.
My sons and daughters liked him, for he had progessive views,
And chewed the quid of fancy, and gave down the latest news;
And couldn't help but like him, as I fear I always must,
The gold of my own doctrines in a fellow-heap of dust.
He was spreading desolation through a piece of apple pie,
When he paused, and looked upon us with a tear in his off-eye,
And said, "O, happy family! your blessings make me sad
;
You call to mind the dear ones that in happier days I had :
A wife as sweet as this one; a babe as bright and fair;
A little girl with ringlets, like that one over there.
I worshipped them too blindly!-my eyes with love were dim!
God took them to his own heart, and now I worship Him.
But had I not neglected the means within my way,
Then they might still be living, and loving me to-day.
"One night there came a tempest, the thunder-peals were dire;
The clouds that tramped above us were shooting bolts of fire;
In my own house, I, lying, was thinking, to my blame,
How little I had guarded against those shafts of flame,
When, crash !—through roof and ceiling the deadly lightning cleft,
And killed my wife and children, and only I was left.
"Since that dread time I've wandered, and naught for life have cared,
Save to save others' loved ones, whose lives have yet been spared; Since then it is my mission, where'er by sorrow tossed,
To sell to virtuous people good lightning-rods-at cost.
With sure and strong protection I'll clothe your buildings o'er, "Twill cost you fifty dollars (perhaps a trifle more);
What little else it comes to at lowest price I'll put
(You signing this agreement to pay so much per foot).”
I signed it, while my family all approving stood about,
And dropped a tear upon it—(but it didn't blot it out)!
That very day with wagons came some men, both great and small,
They climed upon my buildings just as if they owned 'em all;
They hacked 'em, and they hewed 'em, much against my loud de-
They trimmed 'em up with gewgaws, and they bound 'em down with wires;
They trimmed 'em and they wired 'em, and they trimmed an' wired 'em still,
And every precious minute kept a-running up the bill.
My soft-spoke guest a-seeking, did I rave and rush and run;
He was supping with a neighbor, just a three-mile further on.
"Do you think," I fiercely shouted, "that I want a mile of wire
To save each separate hay-cock out o' heaven's consumin' fire?
Do you think to keep my buildin's safe from some uncertain harm,
I'm goin' to deed you over all the balance of my farm?"
He looked up quite astonished, with a face devoid of guile,
And he pointed to the contract with a reassuring smile :
It was the first occasion that he disagreed with me;
But he held me to that paper with a firmness sad to see;
And for that thunder story, ere the rascal finally went,
I paid two hundred dollars, if I paid a single cent.
And if any lightnin'-rodder wants a dinner-dialogue
With the restaurant department of an enterprising dog,
Let him set his mill a-runnin' just inside my outside gate,
And I'll bet two hundred dollars that he won't have long to wait.
I WAS busily sewing one bright summer day,
And thought little Chatterbox busy at play,
When a sunshiny head peeped into my room,
And a merry voice called, "Buy a broom? Buy a broom?”
"No, not any to-day, sir," I soberly said,
But soon the door opened: "Pins, needles, and thread,
Combs, brushes? My basket is piled up so high!
If you only will look, ma'am, I'm sure you will buy."
Again I refused him, but soon he came back,
This time bending o'er with an odd-looking pack;
"Ribbons, collars, and handkerchiefs? Cheap as can be;
They came in my big ship over the sea."
"Hard times, sir," I answered; "no money to spare;
To sell your fine things you must travel elsewhere."
His roguish eyes twinkled, as closing the door
He departed, but came in a minute or more
Right under my window, the sly little fox!
Crying, "Strawberries! Strawberries! ten cents a box!"
I resolved to reward such persistence as this,
So I bought all he had, and for pay gave a kiss.
WELL, wife, I've found the model church! I worshipped there to
It made me think of good old times, before my hairs were gray.
The meetin'-house was finer built than they were years ago;
But then I found, when I went in, it wasn't built for show.
The sexton didn't seat me 'way back by the door;
He knew that I was old and deaf, as well as old and poor.
He must have been a Christian, for he led me boldly through
The long aisle of that pleasant church to find a pleasant pew.
I wish you'd heard the singin'—it had the old-time ring—
The preacher said with trumpet-voice, "Let all the people sing;"
The tune was "Coronation," and the music upwards rolled
Till I thought I heard the angels striking all their harps of gold.
My deafness seemed to melt away, my spirit caught the fire,
I joined my feeble, trembling voice with that melodious choir,
And sang, as in my youthful days, "Let angels prostrate fall,
Bring forth the royal diadem and crown him Lord of all."
I tell you, wife, it did me good to sing that hymn once more,
I felt like some wrecked mariner who gets a glimpse of shore;
I almost want to lay aside this weather-beaten form
And anchor in the blessed port forever from the storm.
The preachin'! well, I can't just tell all that the preacher said; I know it wasn't written, I know it wasn't read;
He hadn't time to read, for the lightnin' of his eye
Went passing 'long from pew to pew, nor passed a sinner by.
The sermon wasn't flowery, 'twas simple Gospel truth, It fitted poor old men like me, it fitted hopeful youth. "Twas full of consolation for weary hearts that bleed, "Twas full of invitations to Christ-and not to creed.
The preacher made sin hideous in Gentiles and in Jews;
He shot the golden sentences straight at the finest pews.
And, though I can't see very well, I saw the falling tear
That told me hell was some way off, and heaven very near.
How swift the golden moments fled within that holy place!
How brightly beamed the light of heaven from every happy face!
Again I longed for that sweet time when friend shall meet with
When congregations ne'er break up and Sabbaths have no end.
I hope to meet that minister, the congregation, too,
In the dear home beyond the skies, that shines from heaven's blue,
I doubt not I'll remember, beyond life's evening gray,
The face of God's dear servant who preached His Word to-day.
Dear wife, the fight will soon be fought, the victory be won,
The shining goal is just ahead, the race is nearly run.
O'er the river we are nearin', they are thronging to the shore,
To shout our safe arrival where the weary weep no more.
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