Mose approached the registration booth hesitatingly, and being accosted by the official in charge, assured that dignitary that he had just walked ten miles to register.
Well, Mose, what branch of the service would you like to be placed in? inquired the official.
How about the cavalry?
What will Ah have ter do in de calvary?
Oh, you won't have to do anything but ride a horse all the time.
Mose scratched his woolly noggin in perplexity for a few moments, and finally said: "Nawssur, Ah don't believe Ah wants ter jine the calvary."
What's the matter with the cavalry, Mose?
Well, yer see, boss, hit's jest like dis: When y'awl blow dem bugles ter retreet, Ah don't want ter be troubled wid no hoss.