The discharges of electricity from one cloud to another are the flashes of lightning, and it is to be observed that the thunder is nothing more than the noise made by the fluid rushing through the air." "What, then, is the thunderbolt ?" "There is no such thing as what is popularly understood by the term thunderbolt.

The lightning itself, however, often does mischief.

This happens when the discharge, instead of being between two clouds in the air, takes place between a cloud and the ground--a cloud surcharged with electricity understood.

Then all intervening objects are struck by the fluid." "There, however, you are wrong," said Fritz.

"All objects are not struck; on the contrary, the fluid avoids some things and searches out others, even moving in a zig-zag direction to manifest these caprices; it often discharges itself on or into hard substances, and passes by those which are soft or feeble." "I might say this arose from a sentiment of generosity," added Jack, "but I have other reasons to assign." "So much the better," said Fritz, "as I should scarcely be satisfied with the first." "Well," continued Jack, "lightning has its likings and dislikings." "Like men and women," suggested Willis.
"It has a partiality for metal." "An affection that is not returned, however," observed Fritz.
"If the fluid enters a room, for example, it runs along the bell wires, inspects the works of the clock, and sometimes has the audacity to pounce upon the money in your purse, even though a policeman should happen to be in the kitchen at the time." "Perhaps," remarked Willis, "it is Socialist or Red Republican in its notions." "It does not, however, patronise war," replied Jack; "I once heard of it having melted a sword and left the scabbard intact." "That, to say the least of it, is improbable," remarked Fritz.