"If I had a big gun," exclaimed the worthy skipper, in a paroxysm of patriotism "a thirty-two-pound carronade, I would fire a genuine republican salute, and make such a thundering noise, not only in the air above but in the depths below, as to wake up the lazy inhabitants of the deep, and make them peep out of their caves to ask the cause of the terrible rumpus over their heads." At this very moment a suspicious-looking, double-headed cloud was slowly rising in the west, and ere long spread over a large space in the heavens. As it rolled onward, flashes of lightning were seen and a distant rumbling was heard a thunder squall was at hand. The lightning became more vivid, and the thunder more frequent and deafening. Every sail was lowered to the deck, the helm was put hard a-port, and the gust came upon us with terrible fury. The rain fell in torrents, the lightning kept the atmosphere in a constant state of illumination, and the peals of thunder were truly appalling! A grander salute, or a more brilliant and effective display of fireworks on the Fourth of July, could hardly have been wished by the most enthusiastic patriot. Even Captain Thompson's longings for "a thundering noise" were more than realized. He stood firmly on the break of the quarter-deck, surrounded by most of the crew, who seemed to gather near him for protection, astonished and terrified at the sublimity of the scene. I was standing on the main deck, not far from the rest of the crew at the time, and noticed that when the storm struck the schooner, some ropes that had not been hitched to a belaying pin were flying loose and might become unrove. I stepped forward, and standing on tiptoe was in the act of stretching up my right arm to grasp the end of the peak-halliards, when there came a flash of white lightning which almost blinded every man on deck, accompanied by a peal of thunder that seemed loud enough to shake the world to its centre. We all believed the schooner had been struck by lightning. This was not the case. It was, nevertheless, a narrow escape. I received on my hand and arm an electric shock, which tingled through every nerve and nearly felled me to the deck, and rendered my arm powerless for an hour afterwards. The captain now seemed really alarmed. He ordered me in a loud voice to come aft, and told the crew to follow him into the cabin, leaving the schooner to manage matters with the thunder storm and take care of herself. He produced a bottle of "old Madeira" from a locker, and filled several glasses; and while the short-lived storm raged fearfully above our heads, he insisted on every man drinking a toast in honor of the Fourth of July, and set the example himself by tossing off a tumbler filled to the brim.