"Do you know in what year you were born?"
"Yes; to be sure--thirty-eight."
"Thirty-eight and twenty-one make how much?"
"Fifty-nine," said I.
"I think I'd better give you some medicine," said he.
I took the draught. In a very short time I began to feel strangely calm--in fact, almost stupid. The doctor sat by my side.
"You can trust me?"
"Yes."
"You belong to a South Carolina regiment," he said.
I looked at him, and said nothing.