leisure (and precious few of leisure) makes me more certain of every
day: That just a little way off the road is fairyland.

It was exactly three days ago that I had occasion to go down the railway
line that is the most frequented in Europe: I was on business, not
leisure, but in the business I had two days' leisure, and I did what I
would advise all other men to do in such a circumstance.

I took a train to nowhere, fixing my starting-point thus:--

I first looked at the map and saw where nearest to me was a
quadrilateral bare of railways. This formula, to look for a
quadrilateral bare of railways, is a very useful formula for the man who
is seeking another world. Then I fixed at random upon one little
roadside station upon the main line; I determined to get out there and
to walk aimlessly and westward until I should strike the other side of
the quadrilateral. I made no plan, not even of the hours of the day.

I came into my roadside station at half-past eight of the long summer
night, broad daylight that is, but with night advancing. I got out and
began my westward march. At once there crowded upon me any number of
unexpected and entertaining things!

The first thing I found was a street which was used by horses as well as
by men, and yet was made up of broad steps. It was a sort of stair-case
going up a hill. At the top of it I found a woman leading a child by the
hand. I asked her the name of the steps. She told me they were called
"The Steps of St. John."

A quarter of a mile further down the narrow lane I saw to my