Prior to the passing of the “Locomotives on Highways Act” in 1896, motoring was an impossibility. Even then its advance was slow, and until about three years ago motor-cars were decidedly unpopular. The London street boys--miniature representatives of public opinion--derided them, and, with their usual fiendish lack of sympathy, rejoiced when they came to grief; while ’bus-drivers and cabmen ironically likened all automobiles to traction engines, cherishing the delusion that they continually broke down, cost a small fortune to maintain, and, worse than all, dislocated every bone in their occupants’ bodies. This contempt reached a climax when certain lemon-coloured electric cabs were seen plying for hire, ugly to look at and limited in speed; while simultaneously a line of steam omnibuses, so cumbersome and weighty [Illustration: FIG. 26. ELECTRIC CARRIAGE ENTIRELY OF BRITISH CONSTRUCTION _By permission of_ _Henry F. Joel & Co., London_] as to really merit comparison with traction engines, began to run to Victoria Station. But an extraordinary and rapid change has come over popular taste, and nothing is needed to bring motor-cars into universal use, save a lowering of their cost; for even the cheapest are rather beyond the means of people with moderate incomes. This may be one reason why they are so fashionable, though the King’s marked predilection for travelling by them has done much to make “motoring” the correct thing; and His Majesty has recently consented to become a patron of the Automobile Club. Before the advent of the motor-car, Society, though tired of “biking” and craving for a novelty, could not tolerate the notion of being seen in any other than a well-horsed vehicle. Society now thinks differently, as evidenced by a stroll in the Park during the season. There, in the midst of graceful landaus and other equipages drawn by the most splendid horses in the world, may be seen endless electric and steam barouches, broughams, victorias, and cars, all perfectly noiseless, and magnificent petrol motor-cars (_not_ noiseless!), resplendent with brass and oxidised silver fittings and upholstered in morocco, whose fair occupants are smartly dressed in tailor-made motoring gowns or, on warm days, in ordinary carriage toilettes. Some of the fashionable hotels own big cars and run them in lieu of coaches for their customers’ benefit to various places near London; while, to the vexation of omnibus companies, motor waggonettes, duly authorised by Scotland Yard, ply to and from Putney and Piccadilly Circus, always “full up” with people, no longer the butt (as they used to be), but the envy, of pedestrians. And these public cars, though not perfect, are an advance upon omnibuses, and do not break down more frequently than horsed conveyances.