A heavy fog pressed down upon the city of Washington. To the boy watching it from the vantage point of the window in the top floor of the apartment in which he stood, it spread as mysterious and as sodden as a flood, enveloping streets, parks, houses, indeed all but the tops of the highest structures, the domes and roofs of public buildings and spires of churches, and here and there a dark, drowned mass of foliage. The apartment stood on a height and as the boy looked he saw a glow in the east, followed quickly by thin banners of red and orange. Then the Sun rose and turned the domes and spires swimming on the sea of mist into fairy flotillas wrought of pearl and gold.
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