"About seven or eight hundred, I reckon."
"Not much difference, then; but, I tell you what, that old Twenty-eighth is a whopper--a thousand men."
I said nothing; I could hear the gurgling of the water as it ran down the neck of the canteen. The man chuckled, "Branch's brigade ort to have a branch; blowed if it ortn't." He was pleased with himself for discovering something like a pun or two.
For two reasons it was policy for me to go back, or start back, with this man; first, I wanted him to talk more; second, if I should linger at the water, he might think my conduct strange.
Going up the hill, he asked me to take the lead. I did so, venturing the remark that these two new regiments made Branch's brigade a very big one.
"Yes," said he; "but I reckon they won't stay with us forever."
"Wonder where they came from," said I.
"Too hard for me," he replied; "especially the Twelfth; the Forty-fifth was at Goldsborough, but not in our brigade."
We reached the street of the Seventh. I stepped aside. "I stop here," said I.
"Well," said he, "I'm much obleeged to you for showin' me that branch--that branch that belongs to Branch's brigade," and he went his way.