It is clearer to say that the passenger sits outside of the wheels on the one, inside on the other.

There are seats for two persons over each of the two wheels, and a dickey for the driver in front, should he need to use it.
Ordinarily he sits on one side, driving, while you perch on the other, and thus you jog along, each seeing your own side of the road, and discussing the topics of the day across the 'well,' as the covered-in centre of the car is called.

There are those who do not agree with its champions, who call it 'Cupid's own conveyance'; they find the seat too small for two, yet feel it a bit unsociable when the companion occupies the opposite side.

To me a modern Dublin car with rubber tires and a good Irish horse is the jolliest vehicle in the universe; there is a liveliness, an irresponsible gaiety, in the spring and sway of it; an ease in the half-lounging position against the cushions, a unique charm in 'travelling edgeways' with your feet planted on the step.

You must not be afraid of a car if you want to enjoy it.