I have visited Jamaica several times, and until I had seen Ceylon, considered it the most beautiful island in the world. MEXICO. In 1892, when on a visit to America with my daughter, I was asked to proceed to Mexico, to endeavour to induce the Mexican Government to give their National Bonds in exchange for the bonds of the Mexican Southern Railway. These had been guaranteed by the several Mexican States through which the railway passed, but there had been default in the interest payments, and the bonds were in consequence greatly depreciated in value, the $100 bond selling in London for $25. I thought it was a hopeless mission, but decided to go. We proceeded from New York through Arkansas and Texas. It took us thirty-six hours in the train to cross Texas, travelling all the while; this will give some idea of the great size of this state. On our way we saw in the newspapers that an insurrection had broken out in Mexico, headed by Gusman. The New York papers had long detailed accounts. This induced me to break our journey at Laredo, which is situated on the frontier of Mexico, as I did not wish to expose my daughter to any danger. On my arrival at the hotel at Laredo, I sent for the landlord and asked him where the rebellion was. He replied, "Right here, sir, in this hotel." I could not understand what he meant, and desired him to explain himself. "Well," he said, "I will tell you how it was. Some reports reached the north that a civil war had broken out, and one day fourteen newspaper reporters arrived. They came to this hotel and sent for me, and demanded how they could get to the seat of the war, and where Gusman, the leader of the rebels, was to be found. I told them there was no rebellion, and that I had seen Gusman in Laredo a few days before, selling cattle. They were not, however, satisfied, and said that they had come down to write up a civil war, and a civil war there must be. They stayed in this hotel ten days, sending to the north every day long accounts of the progress of hostilities, and then they returned home." I thought this was one of the best stories of the methods of American journalists that I had ever heard, and as I knew it to be true, I repeated it to President Diaz a few days later, on my arrival at the city of Mexico. The old President was much amused, and said it reminded him of the story of a tiger. He received news that the people of a certain village were being destroyed by a tiger, and dared not venture out for fear of the animal, so he sent down a company of soldiers; they found it was quite true that the villagers were scared to death, but there was no tiger. A puma is called in Mexico a tiger.