Midnight
Do any dings , but take him avay . He haf no soul , no mind , no heart , no noddings ! '' Wrapped in contemplation and but little else , probably because his stock of contemplation largely exceeded his stock of else , Mr. Dootleby wandered down the Bowery . Midnight sounded out from the spire in St. Mark 's Church just as Mr. Dootleby , having come from Broadway through Astor Place , turned about at the Cooper Union . There was a touch of melancholy in Mr. Dootleby 's expression as he looked down the big , brilliant Bowery , glowing with the light of a hundred electric burners and myriads of gas-jets , and seething with unnatural activity . He stopped a moment in the shadow thrown by the booth of a coffee and cake vender , and looked attentively into the faces of the throngs that passed him . He seemed to be thinking hard .