ght Xannotir gutelittenctr, PUBLISHED &VERY WEDNESDAY BY H. G. SMITH & CO A. J. STEINDIAN H. G. SurTrr TERNIS-2wo Dollars per annum, payable all cases In advance. OFFICE-SOUTHWEST CORNER OF CENTRE SQUARE. re-All letters on business should be ad dressed to H. G. SmITII & CO. foettm. " BLACK 1,111. LTV Let the Truth of history be preserved Nigh a million of lives we have spent And the ee hil lions of idollars or more, That each fetter in twain should be rent 'And the slave horn be heard Lever more; Full six years we Ih.ve Oven to the black, And the thing was tilid"' igd Y Now suppose, jniiit to alter the tack, We devote half :ill hour to the white. When the Souili in Its lr,ur of load pride At Fort Solider let drive tile lirst shut, Neck and heriv our pea' was tied, And the held 01, end of the knot; But our heal we 1.•1 the sound, For both r. luired in the fichi— And the sear tor the 1,1 -elc was then found Quite a tongs job' i work for the white. Well, we fot,ht—a. , . , , ler four Sears we lought, POUritht nut laVisl, treasure and life— Did tine hint lc !nen arise a. lie ought, Cleavin t 4o..rt.t.war.l with t-rch and with knife All hi, uctsters were tar from Ills track Under on and in the light There we tett hitt, : the blaek back Front champion, the white. Did he aid , 'when I.leetlltnt we shod .10 Vila,: ll' slavcry,.•r.m.,, Or to le•e food, Horne 5,1 , 11W11 , ,, (Viii,lllllllES and teams? We a.t 111 l .t I I 1,11 Sl”gh . Slate A revolt nd l have 1,1111101 the light; So it, more of.l heir •• alt y " 1,1 att., For the olahlt reh., urrtL wo se than Lhe Whltl The sahil relicts come tVit:l a cheer, Their nets:bayo sPtiit.,,tiil While the bind: I ehe:s slunk: in ill, rear, Assisting, Otntl treely) ; Phillips, :simmer, ineli or Ilia! :11ity till night,— But H•bl.el: or ...bite rebels wu,L tide, 'filen, by 11. aver tile to it LAC tt bile. It would se, en this vile euill T71:11. u t• .• ii I.Q, :Lily - 111,V— ALIII I Wail ,. lilt' •.,o1 OH the 511!..j.• I, WI, t. rho Ilse lull'; Mit situ, c.u‘l 1; In 1." 1.0,1 gun, ,t) urnle titer fight, \Vt. ere [old "1, hh. d volt,: se, turn"— ' TIS :111 11111111.4 1,1;1,11,1 the )tithe! 131!=1111E E., ,v1,.1e n I 4,ains and disgrace! 111:010 1. S , , 110:0,0, rubes the hour, • IN,. lo V. :1011 1 . 10,0! TO iny In ai allll /1111, jollll in In in il.e I Inl st You 11 1.•.11,/ I iitit•—y, , o'r , 15111Ie! 111,1 - , Y. Vol. lidantry laisCi'liclllColl.s. The itiimance or the Viceroyalty isuutii Paella t 11,111 . 11, in succession from l s .leheinct \ the founder of the dynasty in pt. liis urbanity and inteuiLy . .nce durim• rceent visit seem to hav , won he . I;:t I! the good will of the people both In Paris and Lividon, atfiough It. hat amused the populace in Paris Ly his alarm when a pistol was lined Juriug the performance of the opera of " Dmi Carlos." lie evi dently ihought he was tired at, and speedily left - t he tlicatre. 11 is accession to power Was marked Icy a circumstance sufficiently curious in itself to merit narration. Said predecessor, was known to Ix• very di, and Ismail, the heir-apparent, \vas hourly expecting inLelligenceoiSiiiil'silccease. Said was in Alexandria, and Ismail in Cairo, so that the first initilligence would cer- tainly be conveyed by telegraph. It is usual in Egypt to reward the individual Who fir,! aItIIOUIIV , S the accession of the Paella to the supreme dignity by cre ating him a bey, if he lie a commoner, and a paella it he is already a hey,— paella being the ugliest title of nobility conferred in Vgy pt. The smii•ia mi.:Meld of the telegraph at Cairo, aware or the hopeless nature of Said's complaint, told hourly expecting news of ids demise, tool: up his abode at the telegraph ordiir that lie might he the first. to communicate the intelligence to the new viceroy. He waited and wailed, b u t hour after hour passed away, and 11e expected news did not come. Said was evidently an Un- Caliseioliably long time in dying. At length, tir,il of waitini , after more than forty hours of wakefulness, ilessy Bey ladled a young man, tin assistant in the deliartment, in whom he hoped lie could conlide, and told him wind he was expecting. "1 and about to lie down," said Bessy I to him. have made 100 a couch in the next room. Wake lie the moment the telegram conies from Alexandria.' The young man pronostal obedience. But before lying down Bess)' hey said further to hint, "Ile faithful in this matter and you shall have from ine live hundred francs" t 20), and so saying the bey resigned himself without fear to his repose. The telegram came whilst he slept, three hours alter. Said Paella was dead. The young man, the hay's assistant, re flected that by communicating the news himself to Ismail, who was anxiously expecting it, he would get inure than live hundred frailer. So, leaving his master asleep, he posted oll' in hot haste to Choubrah, where Ismail was then residing, with the telegram iu his hand. He was admitted to an audience with out delay. Ismail made him a bey upon the spot, but gave him no largesse, such as he expected. In his excitement, however, Ismail had dropped the paper containing the announcement of Stud's death, and the young man picked it up, and, as soon as he got leave to depart front the palace, he took the telvg - rain to his master, Bessy liey, whom he roused from slum ber. Bessy key teas delighted at being able, as he hoped, to communicate the news first to the but', viceroy, and gave the order fi n ' the live hundred francs thereand then to the young man. flurrying oll' to the palace, Bessy Bey Was quickly undeceived, Ills news was already known. The paella received him coldly. Ile got no honor. lie so o t ! Mund out by whom he had been forestalled, and ret Unita! to the office to abuse Ins assistant ill good set Clams, anti to dismiss hon. "Speak to Inc with more respect, my brother," said the young man, "for I ant a hey as well :is you, and cannot, be dismissed from my post under govern ment without Ili,. highness' sanction.. Let lls c;,, to hint together." But he ov Itcy was by no means pre pared t'or this, and, on reduction, thought lie had Letter he tiuit t, tintl let the mat - terdrop. •yotiog man who exhibited such mart ties , tts the Americans '(111111 call it, is now governor a a province, a favorite at court, the com panion of the paella ill Paris and Lon don, and it much greater malt than llessy lacy ever was The arta ssion el Said, however, the uncle and prc , l-ccssor of the present viceroy, Was 111,,rItc11 Icy a much more extraordinary :111(I characteristic event, —an event that would he considered horrible anywhere eke except in Egypt. The licad i,t the family, the oldest male within certain degrees of affinity, succeeds to the government in Egypt, not the eldest son. Abbas nicht', predecessor of Said, was hated l'or his cruelty. Ile seemed to think no more of human life than most men do of canine life, and he thought less of murdering or torturing 0 human being than most, seen Week! lbiuk of putting a (log to death In the least pain ful manner. As an example. lie was walking in the grounds of his paha:eon the hanks of the Nile, when tt rievt , brctichloadi lig gun,it towling•plece, was brought to Wile It good shot, and ordered It to be loaded with ball, which was done, AL the tither side of the Nile, a poor peasant , 'Olllllll had just 1111011 her Witter pot el the Flyer, lind was walking up the hank with the water.pot on her head, Abbas presumed the gun at her and 11 red. She was wounded hl the kWh 111111 fell wrlthlng to the ground. The courtiers applauded the accuracy of his highness's arm, awl the viceroy himself yawned the weapon to the attendant who brought it, saying that he was satisfied with IL. No one paid the slightest attention to the poor Wretch who had been wounded. She died that night. It is not wonderful, then, such being the character of Abbas, that he was murdered at last. It, is said 'that those _ who did It, Ills own servants, were In. stigatod by members of his own family, whom he had outraged, so to do. Abbas was living at the house of Benla, near Cairo, when he was mur dered, and the chief eunuch, who dis covered the fact in the morning, before any one else knew it, called Elfi Bey the Clovernor of Cairo, to the palace, in order that they might together concert e i,lanaqcr sittcatqatect VOLUME' 68 measures for their own benefit, before the event should become generally known. They decided that they should put Elami Pacha, son of Abbas, on the throne, and not Said Pacha, who was then at Alexandria, and who by Mo hammedan law was the rightful heir. Had Elami been on the spot they might have succeeded, but, unfortunately for them, he was then at sea, having set out in a steamer, two days before, to go to France, intending to make a tour of Europe. If they could succeed in keep ing the viceroy's death a secret until he could be recalled, the two friends, the chief eunuch and the Governor of Cairo, doubted not that their enterprise would be successful, and that the new pacha would do anything they pleased for them afterwards. The difficulty was to keep the death a secret. A telegram was sent to Alexandria forthwith, in the name of the Viceroy, ordering the swiftest steamer available to be sent after Elami Paella to recall him. Said was himself admiral of the fleet, and therefore the necessary orders had to be issued by him. Carefully as Elfi Bey and the chief eunuch took their measures to conceal the viceroy's death, whispers were spread from the palace in various direc tions that all was not right; and Halim 'acha, a friend of Said, having heard of ie order sent to Said, and having heard likewise the whispers alluded to, sent another message to him by telegraph, stating that the house he desired in Cairo was empty, and begging of him to come himself to occupy it, and not to send for any other tenant. Halitu was afraid to speak more explicitly. Said understood him and did not send for Elami. The expedient which Elfi Bey adopt ed in order to conceal the death of the viceroy was one which probably would only have entered into the head of au Oriental, and which an Oriental only would have had the hardihood to exe cute. It was this. He got the dead body of the viceroy, Abbas, alreay more than unpleasant, dressed up in the or dinary clothes, ordered one of the vice- roy's carriages, had the corpse lifted into its accustomed seat, and took his own scat, as he had often done during the life of Abbas, at his left hand. It was given out that Abbas was going to the palace, which lie had himself built in the Desert, ten miles from Cairo, the palm e called after him, the Abbassich ; other carriages followed, and, during e horrible drive, he, Eli Bey, lifted the arm of the dead man occasionally, as if replying to the greetings of the multitude. Was it 'nut horrible? In this way the drive was accomplished. 'rile viceroy had gone, as ou former oc casions, to bury himself in the A bassieh, and there to celebrate his usual orgies, remote from public, business. .:. , ;othing more. But the truth had got vied. It was known that Abbas was dead notwith standing Elli horrildedrive. Said had come to Cairo, and had sent a mes senger to Constantinople to announce the tact of Abbas' death and of his own accession. 1 lli still had his own guards in the citadel of Cairo. He daily expected the return of.Elatni. It was not until eight days after the death of Abbas that Lie became convinced that Elitmi was not coining, that the country had accepted Said as its ruler, and that there was no more hope for Shut up in the citadel, he trembled as he thought of the revenge which Said Paella would take on him, and he be came finally convinced that there was no more hope for him. Said, in the meantime, sent to him to say that he looked with leniency on his transgres sion, inasmuch as it resulted from too great a devotion to his late master, and Lis family. But Elli judged Said by himself, and believed that the direst tortures would be his fate when lie gave himself up, so he destroyed himself by poison. " What a fool !" said Said, when lie heard the news ; "had I not promised to forgive him '.'" Such is Egyptian life in high places! lsmuil Pacha, the present' ruler in Egypt, is about thirty-nine years of age, with n mild expression of countenance, a yellowish or carroty beard, usually dyed, and au inordinate passion for amassing money. To this lust passion every thing else seems subordinate with him ; and with a monopoly of cotton and sugar in Egypt, he has contrived to render himself perhaps the richest in dividual, privately, in Europe or Africa. The Boston Girl. The Boston correspoudeut of the Chi cago. Tribanc thus describes the Boston girl : The series of Fraternity Lectures is the last great fact of the Boston girl's life. She dotes on Phillips, idolizes Weiss' social problems, goes into a line frenzy over Emerson's transcendental ism, and worships Gail Hamilton and her airy nothings. The Boston girl is of medium height, somewhat cottony, pale, intellectual face, light hair, Hue eyes, wears spec tacles, squints a little, rather di.qhabilic in dress, slight traces of ink on her right second finger, Hue as to her stockings and large as to her feet. Of physical beauty she is no boaster, but of intellectual she is the "paragon of animals." blather a dandelion Ly the roadside, she will only recognize it as the Lcuntodou lara.eucum, and dis course to you learnedly of its fructifica tion by winged seeds. She will describe to you the relative voicings of the or gans of Boston, and the size of the stops in the Great One. She will analyze the difference in Beethoven's and Men- elssolm's treatment of an allrgro co? inoto. She will learnedly point out to you the theological differences in the con servative and radical Schools of Unita rianism, and she has her views on the rights of woman, Including her sphere and mission. But doubt whether the beauty of the flower, the essence Of music, the sublimity of Beethoven and INilendelssolin, or the inspiration of the ology, every find their way into her science-laden skull, or whether those spectacled eyes ever see their way to the care of nature and art. The Boston girl is a shell. She never ripens into a matured flush and blood woman. She is cold, hard, dry and E===l=E !awl! ton is a type of the Boston girl at naturity. Abby Kelly Foster was a ype of the Boston girl gone to seed. If hail Hamilton lives as long as did Abby Kelly, she will carry a blue cotton um brella, wear a Lowell calico, and make speeches on the wrongs of woman and the abuses of the tyrant man. If the Boston girl ever marries, she gives birth either to a dictionary or to a melan choly-looking young intellect, who Is fed exclusively on vegetables, and at the age of six has mastered logarithms and zoology, Is well up in the carboni ferous and fossill fermis period, falls into the frog-pond a few Wiles, dies when he Is eight years of age, and sleeps beneath a learned epitaph and the Lconlcalun laraxacnin. The Polish Colony In Virginia The Polish refugees who settled In the colony of New Poland, in Spottsylvailla county, Virginia, a year ago, held a public meeting In their reading room on the ultimo, and put forth a decla ration, Thu following statement Is In teresting : " The area of our settlement contains 2,40:: acres, of which 1,3:0 acres have been purchased at $5, 1,0117 acres at ss,Bu per acre—on six years' credit. We have In the settlement Imo acres of clearfield land, and 1,402, acres under heavy oak Limber. This whole settlement is di vided into lots or farms of 100 acres each —so that each of us have, lu the body of his farm, the arable land, the meadow, the wood land, and the water in run ning streams, creeks or springs. " We have resumed or adopted here agricultural pursuits, because we earn estly believe that agriculture alone can secure independent competency to those political exiles from Poland who, like ourselves, have no other means of living but the earnings of labor. Aud because our opinion is, that by thus securing our individual Independent competency we will become more useful to our native land, in case of need, than we would be should we choose to earn our bread In exile as simply daily laborers for hire." An Underground City The Sewers of Paris end the 111-vette/8 EC IC= LCorrespondenee of the Boston Post.l One of the great sewers of Paris runs the whole length of the new and mag nificent Boulevard de Sebastorol, and from that in a further direct line to the station of the Strasburg Railway. A branch of this magnificent and chief artery of the city life, nearly as vast in its dimensions, extends along the centre of the Rue de Rivoli. Both of these terminate at the Seine, near the Place du Chatelet. At this point visitors are generally admitted, and descend by a spiral stairway of iron to a level slightly above that of the river. Here we find ourselves in a lofty and spacious gal lery about fifteen feet high, into which several main lines debouch. The shape of all the sewers is a symmetrical oval. They are made of the sandstone so commonly used in Paris for building purposes, and the axis orthe largest of their, by which, of course, I mean the longest diameter, is that which I have just given as the height of the gallery: From a line about one-third of the way from the bottom projects on either side a stone walk two feet in width, which is,ordinarily several inches higher thaii the surface of the sewerage. The walls and railings are nicely whitewashed, and at intervals are in sorted white porcelain prates bearing in gilt letters the names of the streets under which the diverging sewers run. The map of the underground city, it will thus appear, corresponds exactly with that of the more brilliant Paris above, and it is quite as easy, with the aid of a lantern, to find one's way through it. Directly under the arch of the vault run the waterpipes, painted a clear black, and of enormous size, as might be imagined from the huge sup- plies needed for the fountains and other uses of the city. Opposite them are lung and slender tubes of lead, side by side, in a single cluster, each of which contains /a telegraph wire. These are thus issOlatO from every weakening attraction, anti— moreover concealed =from any other injury. The city itself is also thus preserved from the disfigure ment of unsightly poles and loose iron twine dangling from chimney to chim ney. At long intervals are large reservois into which the contents of the drains can be drawn oil at once, and etn.ptied in case of necessity. These are partly for possible military needs, as in qsothe events it might be desirable to send troops underground in order to make a sudden and unforseen attack upon a mob in insurrection. This would cer tainly be a somewhat novel piece of strategy, even in the present complica ted manoeuvres of modern warfare.— It might, however, very probably, have saved Charles X., or Louis Philippe, if either of theSe royal birds, when en tangled in the meshes of their own nets, had possessed such a method of com municating with their distant troops, or dispatching them to points of impor tance: As it was, when ordered out from the Tuileries, the soldiery had uo means either of finding their way back, or of forwarding information of their peril to lortri,linfrter:,. In each of 1,1,2 s<