The Jacksonville (Ala.) Republican prints the following quaint letter, written from Cairo, Egypt, by the little daughter of Col. S. H. Lockett, formerly of that place, who has recently entered the service of the Khédive:

“We reached here on the 11th of August and went to a vary large hotel call the Grand New Hotel. It was very large, and one of the finest hotels I ever saw. It belongs to the Khédive. Opposite the hotel is a very large and beautiful garden. It also belongs to the Khédive. Well, in fact the Khédive owns everything here that is pretty. Our trip was quite pleasant. One of the prettiest parts was from Paris to Geneva. We had the Alps on both sides of us nearly all the way, and you can imagine how splendid that was. That was the hardest thing to realize. I had often seen pictures of the Alps, but never thought that I would be near enough to climb them. Geneva was a funny looking old place. Our trip from Geneva to Alexandria was quite pleasant. We staid at Naples one night, and half the next day, but all our party did not go ashore. Papa did, however, and brought us some ice that came from the top of Mount Vesuvius. I was dreadfully sick coming across both the ocean and the sea. We staid in Alexandria only one day and one night. It was very cool there in the evening—a great deal more so than I expected to find it. I do not find it very warm here at Cairo in the house, but it is dreadfully warm out doors. I do not dare to go out until the sun is down. It gets very cool late in the evening. We only staid at the hotel six days, then Papa found us a house for which he pays $400, or £80 a year. Papa is higher than any American officer here, except Gen. Stone. He has gotten his uniform. The coat is white, and the pants a dark navy blue. Officers have to wear a cap called ‘taboosh.’ They are not allowed to go out on the streets without their swords. Mamma does not like Egypt very much. She is considerably homesick, I think. I am homesick myself. I sigh all day long and wish I was back in America. The Arabs run me distracted. I can’t bear them. I hate the very name of Arab. Edith is trying to learn to speak Arabic and French. I studied French all of last year, but I can’t speak one word of it now. I get so frightened that I forget what I was going to say. I am very much in hopes that by the end of this year I will know how to speak it right well. I am going to study at home this year with Edith and Henry, real hard, so I will not be homesick. It is too lonely for any use. Papa goes away early in the morning and does not come home until in the evening. The only thing we have to laugh at is the donkeys. It looks perfectly ridiculous to see great big men riding on them with their feet dragging the ground. The Arabs have donkeys to ride instead of street-cars, and you see them running behind them to get their money and their donkey when they stop. Every now and then they have to push them to make them go faster. Yesterday evening Mrs. Stone wrote a note asking mamma to let one of her little girls go out on the desert with her children riding. I went, and enjoyed myself very much. I saw two of the Khédive’s palaces. They were not pretty, but Miss Hettie Stone said they were magnificent inside. It is about breakfast-time in Jacksonville now while I write, and it is evening here. We have eaten our lunch, and are ready to eat dinner when papa comes. He is just as happy as can be, and we are so glad. He is in very good health, and so are all of us. This climate seems to agree with all of us.”