“‘The One Hundred and Fiftieth Pennsylvania, Bucktails,’ answered the general with a smile.
“‘Then, ’tain’t the Seventh Cavalry?’
“‘No. It’s the One Hundred and Fiftieth.’
“The Man seemed dazed, repeated the number over and over to himself and said: ‘Then I’m in the wrong box, cap’n—got left. Ever get left yourself, cap’n? Great Scott, got in the wrong box.”
“Then he sat down, chuckling to himself over his adventure and muttering, ‘Wrong box,’ and ‘Got left.’
“By and by he arose again, courteously saluted, and said:
“‘Cap’n, ’scuze me—but what regiment did you say this was? How much was it?”
“‘The One Hundred and Fiftieth.’
“‘The One Hundred and Fiftieth—’m hic, Great Scott,’ looking carefully around the room, ’a fellow’d think it was the Three Hundred and Forty-Ninth by the bald heads a-settin’ around here!’ And then he left, amidst roars of laughter.”