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368 friends would find that it was quicker to take the road by autocar to reach the Crystal Palace than to rely on the time-tables of any railway professing to carry passengers to that fairy-land at the breakneck time-table speed of eighteen miles an hour.

I was not prepared to face another party of friends, so I went to the Imperial Institute Exhibition alone. Not much encouragement there. A good many carriages on red baize platforms, but so beautiful in paint and varnish that one had an uneasy feeling that they had never known the road, and that no amount of handle labour would bring a grumble of life out of them. One car was going about, which I confess would have had more of my respect had I known that it was the car of the never-giving-in Mr. and Mrs. Koosen. After ten minutes I left the place much in the mood, though not I hope using the language, of Mr. Tittlebat Titmouse when he turned from the railings of the drive in Hyde Park on a certain Sunday afternoon.

These were the days when it was thought practical, as Mr Butler informs me, 'to turn out a car of one-and-a-half horsepower to carry two passengers, and luggage, spare parts and tools, consequently we had to get out and walk up all the hills, steering by the side, while the engine took the car up by itself; where the hills were very steep we had to help the engine by pushing the car up.' I think, as I am quoting from Mr. Butler, I may conveniently add his general remarks:—