Before the advent, into Asheville, of the railroad, in 1880, tourists approached the mountain city by stages from either the terminus of the Western North Carolina railroad, at the eastern foot of the Blue Ridge; from Greenville, South Carolina; or up the French Broad from Tennessee. With the present speedy and convenient way of reaching it, the influx of new-comers increases with every season. Every day during the months of July, August, and September, when the season is at its height, the business portion of Asheville resembles the center, on market days, of a metropolis of twenty times the size of the mountain town. The streets, especially before the hotels, are thronged with citizens, and the crowds of summer visitors, on foot or in carriages, returning from or starting on drives along some of the romantic roads. Parties on horseback canter through the streets, drawing short rein before suddenly appearing, rattling, white-covered, apple-loaded wagons, driven by nonchalant drivers, and drawn by oxen as little concerned as those who hold the goad or pull the rope fastened to their horns; the only animated member of the primitive party being the dog which, in the confusion, having his foot trodden upon by one of the reined-up, prancing horses, awakes the welkin with his cries as he drags himself into a blind alley. Even in daytime a dance is going on in the Swannanoa ball-room on a level with the street. The strains of music from it and whirling figures seen from the sidewalk, will be enough to clinch the opinion that you are in a gay and fashionable summer resort. Every week-day night dances are held at both the Swannanoa and Eagle. If you are single, there is little doubt but you will participate in this revelry; if you have lost the sprightliness of youth or the happy chuckle of healthy later life, in vain you may tuck your head under the pillow and vent your empty maledictions upon the musicians and their lively strains.