and outposts appeared as if by magic. Officers went their rounds with zeal. The camp suddenly ceased to be a disorderly playground for every one off duty. The breaching batteries redoubled their efforts against the walls. The threat of danger once past, however, the men soon slipped back into their careless ways. A New England chronicler records that 'those who were on the spot have frequently, in my hearing, laughed at the recital of their own irregularities and expressed their admiration when they reflected on the almost miraculous preservation of the army from destruction.' Men off duty amused themselves with free-and-easy musketry, which would have been all very well if there had not been such a dearth of powder for the real thing. Races, wrestling, and quoits were better; while fishing was highly commendable, both in the way of diet as well as in the way of sport. Such entries as 'Thritty Lobbsters' and '6 Troutts' appear in several diaries. Nor were other forms of gaiety forgotten. Even a Massachusetts Puritan could recommend a sermon for general distribution in the camp because 'It will please your whole army, as it shows them the way to gain by their gallantry the hearts and affections of the Ladys.' And even a city of the 'Great Awakening,' like Boston, could produce a letter like the following: I hope this will find you at Louisbourg with a bowl of Punch, a Pipe, and a Pack of Cards, and whatever else you desire. (I had forgot to mention a Pretty French Madammoselle.) Your Friend Luke has lost several Beaver Hatts already concerning the Expedition. He is so very zealous about it that he has turned poor Boutier out of his house for saying he believed you wouldn't take the Place. Damn his Blood, says Luke, let him be an Englishman or a Frenchman and not pretend to be an Englishman when he is a Frenchman in his Heart. If Drinking to your Success would take Cape Britton you must be in possession of it now, for it's a Standing Toast.