a second
storey at least. When he reached the top he found he had judged
Edinburgh too hastily. There was some more of it.

His horizon thus suddenly enlarged, Robert Chalmers Fordyce began to
take in his surroundings. He now found himself in a great street, with
imposing buildings on one side and a green valley on the other. On the
far side of the valley the ground ran steeply upward to an eminence
crowded thickly with houses and topped by a mighty castle.

The street was alive with all sorts of absorbingly interesting traffic;
but for the present Robert was chiefly concerned with the Cable Cars. It
was upon one of these majestic vehicles, which moved down the street
unassisted by any apparent human or equine agency, that he had been
bidden to ride to his destination. He was not to take the first that
came along, nor yet the second--they went to various places, it seemed;
and if you were taken to the wrong one you had to pay just the same--but
was to scan them until he espied one marked "Gorgie." This would carry
him down the Dalry Road, and would ultimately pass the residence of
Elspeth M'Kerrow, a decent widow woman, whose late husband's brother had
"married on" a connection of Robert's mother. Here he was to lodge.

At first sight the cars appeared to be labelled with nothing but Cocoa
and Whisky and Empire Palaces of Varieties Open Every Evening; but a
little perseverance discovered a narrow strip of valuable information
painted along the side of each car. The first that caught our friend's
eye was "Pilrig and Braid Hills Road." That would not do. Then came
another--"Murrayfield, Haymarket, and Nether Liberton." Another blank!
Then, "Marchmont Road and Churchill." Foiled again, Robert was beginning
to feel a little sceptical as to the actual existence of the Dalry Road,
when a car drew up opposite to him labelled "Pilrig and Gorgie." It was
going in the right direction too, for his father had warned him that his
destination lay to the west of the town; and you can trust a Scotsman to
know the points of the compass with his eyes shut. (They even talk of a
man sitting on the north or south side of his own fireplace.)

Robert clambered on to the top of this car, and presently found himself
confronted by a gentleman--splendid in appearance but of homely
speech--who waved bundles of tickets in his face, and inquired tersely--

"Penny or tippeny? or transfair?"

"I am seeking the Dalry Road," said Robert cautiously