to remember how many run-aways and smash-ups were caused by the fractious horses they met on the short journey.  Visions of damage suits haunted him for months thereafter.  In our meanderings through the London streets, the fears for the other fellow which had harassed him during his former experience, were speedily transferred to himself.  To his excited imagination, we time and again escaped complete wreck and annihilation by a mere hair’s breadth.  The route which we had taken, I learned afterwards, was one of the worst for motoring in all London.  The streets were narrow and crooked and were packed with traffic of all kinds.  Tram cars often ran along the middle of the street, with barely room for a vehicle to pass on either side.  The huge motor busses came tearing towards us in a manner most trying to novices, and it seemed, time after time, that the dexterity of the drivers of these big machines was all that saved our car from being wrecked.  We obtained only the merest glimpse of Hampton Palace, and the time which we had consumed made it apparent that if we expected to reach our hotel that night, we must immediately retrace our way through the wild confusion we had just passed.  It began to rain, and added to the numerous other dangers that seemed to confront us was that of “skidding” on the slippery streets.  When we finally reached our garage, I found that in covering less than twenty-five miles, we had consumed about four hours and we had been moving all the time.  The nervous strain was a severe one and I forthwith abandoned any plan that I had of attempting to do London by motor car.  With more knowledge and experience I would have done better, but a local motorist, thoroughly acquainted with London, told me that he wouldn’t care to undertake the Hampton Court trip by the route which we had traveled.

On Saturday afternoons and Sundays, the motorist may practically have freedom of the city.  He will find the streets deserted everywhere.  The heavy traffic has all ceased and the number of cabs and motor busses is only a fraction of what it would be on business days.  He will meet comparatively few motors in the city on Sunday, even though the day be fine, such as would throng the streets of Chicago or New York with cars.  The Englishman who goes for a drive is attracted from the city by the many fine roads which lead in every direction to pleasure resorts.  One of the most popular runs with Londoners is the fifty miles to Brighton, directly southward, and the number of motors passing over this highway on fine Sundays is astonishing.  I noted a report in the papers that on a certain Sunday afternoon no less than two hundred cars passed a police trap, and of these, thirty-five were summoned before the magistrates for breaking the speed limit.  To the average American, this run to Brighton would not be at all attractive compared with many other roads leading out of London, on which one would scarcely meet a motor car during the day and would be in no danger from the machinations of the police.  Of course the places frequented by tourists are often closed on Sunday—­or at least partially so, as in the case of Windsor Castle, where one is admitted to the grounds and court, but the state apartments, etc., are not shown.  Even the churches are closed to Sunday visitors except during the regular services.