One other carriage may be mentioned, and then I am done. This is the _Irish car_. Here, as in the larger _bian_, the seats are arranged back to back and sideways. “The wheels are very low and are concealed as far as the axle-boxes, or farther, by the panel of the footboard, which panel is hinged to the end of the _tray_, either side of which forms the seat, to allow of its being turned up when not in use.” Occasionally there is a well between the seats for small packages. In private cars of this kind there is a small seat in front for the driver, but this is rarely to be found in the public vehicles. The width of the _Irish car_ is enormous, and occasionally leads the neophyte into trouble. Outside Ireland, I believe, the car is not seen. “Walking in the pleasant environs of Paris,” wrote Mr. H. C. Marillier some seventeen years ago, in an article entitled _The Automobile: A Forecast_, “or even further afield, upon the broad _routes nationales_ of Charente and La Beauce, it is no uncommon thing to meet on a summer’s day a little open vehicle flitting along without apparent means of motion, upon noiseless rubber-shod wheels, or panting forth a gentle warning from a square-shaped box in front. Two, and sometimes three, persons are seated in it, one of whom drives by means of a handle. To stop or to start again requires the turn of a screw or the push of a pedal. Such, in its most accomplished and most graceful form, is the _automobile_. To see it pass at racing speed—some of these little machines can spurt at twenty miles an hour—takes one’s breath away at first. The apparition is uncanny.”