In my campaign on the plains against the Indians I had a comrade named Bill Brayton.

A Tennesseean, Bill was an' a fine feller, too.

Him an' me have bunked together many a time an' we've dug out of the snow together, too, after the blizzards was over.

But when we saw the war comin' up, Bill had fool notions.

Said he didn't know anything 'bout the right an' wrong of it, guessed there was some of each on each side, but whichever way his state would flop, he'd flop.