He never overdraws his account, any way--never tries--and that's more than I can say for some of his neighbors." The fog, which earlier in the afternoon had been but a blue haze, softening the hard outlines of the street, had now settled down in earnest, choking up the doorways, wiping out the tops of the buildings, their facades starred here and there with gas-jets, and making a smudged drawing of the columns of the Custom House opposite.
"Superb, are they not ?" said Peter, as he wheeled and stood looking at the row of monoliths supporting the roof of the huge granite pile, each column in relief against the dark shadows of the portico.

"And they are never so beautiful to me, my boy, as when the ugly parts of the old building are lost in the fog.

Follow the lines of these watchmen of the temple! These grave, dignified, majestic columns standing out in the gloom keeping guard! But it is only a question of time--down they'll come! See if they don't!" "They will never dare move them," I protested.

"It would be too great a sacrilege." The best way to get Peter properly started is never to agree with him.
"Not move them! They will break them up for dock-filling before ten years are out.

They're in the way, my boy; they shut out the light; can't hang signs on them; can't plaster them over with theatre bills; no earthly use.