And then says I:
"For bridges, parks, and crowded streets
There is no other place that beats
New York," says I.
"_Correct!_" says Cy.

"The town is mighty big, but then
It isn't in it with its men,
Is it?" says I.
"And tell me, Cyrus, if you can,
Who is its biggest, brainiest man?"
"Dana!" says Cy.
"You _bet_!" says I.

"He's big of heart and big of brain,
And he's been good unto us twain"--
Choked up, says I.
"I love him, and I pray God give
Him many, many years to live!
Eh, Cy?" says I.
"_Amen!_" says Cy.

A YOUNG HERO

PERSONAL REMINISCENCES OF COLONEL E.E. ELLSWORTH.

BY JOHN HAY,

Author, with John G. Nicolay, of "Abraham Lincoln: a History."

[Illustration: HENRY H. MILLER, A MEMBER OF THE ORIGINAL COMPANY OF
ELLSWORTH ZOUAVES.

From a photograph loaned by Mr. Miller and taken in 1861 by Colonel
E.L. Brand, at that time commanding the company.]

It is in contemplating what the world loses in the deaths of brilliant
young citizen soldiers that we appreciate most fully the waste of
war and the priceless value of the cause for which such lives were
sacrificed. When a man like Henri Regnault--the most substantial
hope and promise of art in our century--is seen at the siege of Paris
lingering behind his retreating comrades, "_le temps de bruler une
derniere cartouche_" the last words he uttered; when a genius like
Theodore Winthrop is extinguished in its ardent dawn on an obscure
skirmish field; when a patriot and poet like Koerner dies in battle
with his work hardly begun--we feel how inadequate are all the
millions of the treasury to rival such offerings. We shall have no
correct idea what our country is worth to us if we forget all the
singing voices that were hushed, all the noble hearts that stopped
beating, all the fiery energies that were quenched, that we might be
citizens of the great and indivisible Republic of the Western world.

I believe that few men who fell in our civil conflict bore with them
out of the world possibilities of fame and usefulness so bright or
so important as Colonel Ephraim Elmer Ellsworth, who was killed at
Alexandria, Virginia, on May 24, 1861--the first conspicuous victim of
the war. The world can never compute, can hardly even guess, what was
lost in his untimely end. He was killed by the first gun he ever heard
fired in strife; and his friends, who believe him to have had in him
the m