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Jacob A. Riis (1849–1914). Theodore Roosevelt, the Citizen. 1904.

Page 170

never quite to be got over! We read it together, she and I, excited, breathless; and then we laid down the paper and gave two such rousing cheers as had n’t been heard in Richmond Hill that Fourth of July morning, one for the flag and one for Theodore Roosevelt. What was breakfast? The war was won and over!
  We live in a queer world. One man sees the glorious painting, priceless for all time; the other but the fly-speck on the frame. A year or two after, some one, I think he was an editor, wrote to ask me if the dreadful thing was true that in the rush up that hill Roosevelt said, “Hell!” I don’t know what I replied—I want to forget it. I know I said it, anyhow. But, great Scott! think of it.
  Of that war and of his regiment, from the day it was evolved, uniformed, armed, and equipped, through “ceaseless worrying of excellent bureaucrats who had no idea how to do things quickly or how to meet an emergency,” 1 all through the headlong race with a worse enemy than the one in front,—the malaria,