The daily morning journal and courier., 1906-07-24
MoToR-cAR RIDING IN L1sBo.


 But for me the joy in Lisbon has nothing to do with the natural beauty of it's surroundings, of its poetry, of white villas that speckle the lgreen hills. For me the ultimate point of pleasurable excitement is reached in moving from one part of Lisbon to an- sother-the experience Is unique, intoxi- eating, incomparahle.
 Mortoring is fine sport; ballooning provides sensation unlike any other; a tramWay car ride through Lisdon is san extraordinary experience, which combines the joys of both. You quo- ted to me "Quem nao tenn visto Lis- Iooa, nao tenn visto cousa boa" which l understand is the Portuguese variant for See Naples and die," but it shall be my proud boast that have spent thousands of reis on car journeys in Lisbon, and that I still live to tell the tale I have dived down, down, down. facilities with gradient of one in six; I have gone up precipitous streets where the car was a buzzing insect climbing wall; have swooped down goat paths at forty miles an hour; l have tasted that sensation of joyous peril which has hitherto been reserved for Alpine climbers and bill- posters, and all for penny a mile. Lesbon is one huge switch-back (get close to the door in case the blessed thing breaks down, and as such Is the most delightful capital in the world.
 And the pity is that you find this out by accident. Not one guide-book tells you of Lisbon's chief attraction. For myself l was seeking the Pantheon, where you may see king in his coffin When I made the discovery, I boarded car and gave the conductor a penny The nonchalent gentleman controlling the electricity on the front platform stopped moment to light cigarette then gave his handle a shake. The car Jumped twenty feet into bottomless | pit, While l was wondering what was Portuguese for, Save the women and children first" we pulled up in the bowels of the earth, and priest with a bowler hat came on board. Then we climbed up the side of house, went across some roofs, encircles church spire, dropped seven stories into an other hole, ran under house, up a cliff, over some more roofs, down into the basement again-then the conduc- tor came, and, assisted by the rest oi the passengers, explained to me that had had my pennyworth.
 While I was agreeing with him and making my wa to the exit, the car started for another hill-climblng com petition, and I found myself deposited on a ledge-a broad ledge on which fountains played and green palms grew, and unshaven attendants sold lemonade. It was one of Iisbon's win. dow-sllls, and beneath was a panora. ma which has no equal in the world Lisbon is believed to be built on sever hills. say believed" because I per sonally hae counted slxty-three and from the summit of each you may look upon the others. Picture these hills 1T the full light of an afternoon sun Great green mounds sprinkled witt dolls houses, houses red and yellow and white and pink, and ochre over all, on the crest of the highest hill g battered gray fort, gaunt, ugly dom ineering.
 But it Is not for sensations, for tn, joy of the eye, or the refrigerating thrill of car rides that have come tC Lisbon, and you, my dear Pinto, would be the last person in the world tC guess why I have come.-London Mail