we made ourselves.

In the spring General Amherst gave the Rangers a new uniform. It was a
blue cap or bonnet, such as the Highlanders wore, and a waistcoat and
short jacket of black frieze lapelled with blue. There were no arms to
the waistcoat or jacket, only armholes, and on the shoulders were little
wings, such as the drummers and grenadiers wore. Hector called us
Amherst's angels. The buttons were of white metal. We had drawers of
linen or light canvas, and over them leggings of black frieze reaching
to the thighs. From the calf down, they were buttoned with white metal
buttons, and came over the feet like splatterdashes. At our waist was
fastened a short kilt of blue stuff, which reached nearly to the knees.
Our dress was much like that of the Highlanders.

Most of the regulars who had joined us since the last campaign came from
Louisburg, and had been sufficiently long in the land to lose a portion
of that feeling of immense superiority which Englishmen have when fresh
from the old country. Still they laughed heartily at the awkward
appearance of the green provincial troops. And no one could help it who
had experience in military life.

[Sidenote: "YANKEE DOODLE"]

"Ben," said Donald, "just listen to the green gawks singing and
whistling that 'Yankee Doodle.' They think it is the finest tune on
earth, and the latest martial music from England. I remember the bit of
a surgeon who wrote that in fun two years ago, just to make sport of
them."

"Well, Donald, I like it myself; and as our boys have taken it up,
they're apt to fight well under it."

"'Deed, man, they'll no do anything with it. It's just a poor foolish
tune."

How little we foresaw the popularity of that air. For years the bands of
the British regiments played it in derision of the provincials. Percy's
troops marched to Lexington to this music. They did not play it on their
return. During the Revolution our men played it whenever the British
were defeated, and the tune gradually became unpopular in the British
army.

"Donald, our men may be green and awkward, but they are God-fearing men,
most of them, members of the church; and they don't drink like fish, nor
swear like pirates, as these newcomers do, whose conceit and
overbearing ways are hard to endure."

"You're right there, Ben. It's no bad thing to have a gude opinion of
oneself, provided it's not altogether too gude. And I maun say that
these men put themselves too high. And a man sh