out any lively movement of air. But the scenery is so
charming and noble, the drives are so varied, the roads so unusually
passable for a Southern country, and the facilities for excursions so
good, that Asheville is a favorite resort.

Architecturally the place is not remarkable, but its surface is
so irregular, there are so many acclivities and deep valleys that
improvements can never obliterate, that it is perforce picturesque. It
is interesting also, if not pleasing, in its contrasts--the enterprise
of taste and money-making struggling with the laissez faire of the
South. The negro, I suppose, must be regarded as a conservative element;
he has not much inclination to change his clothes or his cabin, and his
swarming presence gives a ragged aspect to the new civilization. And
to say the truth, the new element of Southern smartness lacks the
trim thrift the North is familiar with; though the visitor who needs
relaxation is not disposed to quarrel with the easy-going terms on which
life is taken.

Asheville, it is needless to say, appeared very gay and stimulating to
the riders from the wilderness. The Professor, who does not even pretend
to patronize Nature, had his revenge as we strolled about the streets
(there is but one of much consideration), immensely entertained by the
picturesque contrasts. There was more life and amusement here in
five minutes, he declared, than in five days of what people called
scenery--the present rage for scenery, anyway, being only a fashion and
a modern invention. The Friend suspected from this penchant for the city
that the Professor must have been brought up in the country.

There was a kind of predetermined and willful gayety about Asheville
however, that is apt to be present in a watering-place, and gave to it
the melancholy tone that is always present in gay places. We fancied
that the lively movement in the streets had an air of unreality. A band
of musicians on the balcony of the Swannanoa were scraping and tooting
and twanging with a hired air, and on the opposite balcony of the Eagle
a rival band echoed and redoubled the perfunctory joyousness. The gayety
was contagious: the horses felt it; those that carried light burdens
of beauty minced and pranced, the pony in the dog-cart was inclined to
dash, the few passing equipages had an air of pleasure; and the people
of color, the comely waitress and the slouching corner-loafer, responded
to the animation of the festive strains. I