We had great inconvenience in making ourselves understood by our Portuguese allies, and a laughable circumstance of this sort took place between a friend of mine and a shoemaker, in the village of Rio Mayor. He left his boots, his only pair, to be mended, and understood they were to be put in serviceable condition for a _crusado novo_, less than three shillings of our money. Next day, on entering the shop, the man made two or three efforts to make the officer comprehend how well the work had been done; but it was all to no purpose, for my friend, not understanding one word of what was said, conceived the fellow wanted to impose a higher price upon him, and got into a violent rage. An Irish soldier, belonging to the 88th Regiment, of the name of Larracy, a shoemaker, who had been working for the Portuguese, a common indulgence allowed to the tradesmen of the army, came up to his officer and thus accosted him. “Ah! your honour, I see you can’t talk to him, but _lave_ him to me; I’ve been working in his shop these three weeks, and, saving your presence, there isn’t a bigger rascal in all Ireland; but I can _spake_ as well as himself now, and I’m up to his ways.” Larracy thus became interpreter and _mediator_, and it would be difficult to say in which character he best acquitted himself. Possessing no knowledge whatever of the language, notwithstanding his repeated assurances that he could talk it _nately_, he brought that happy talent for invention, for which the Irish most undeniably stand unrivalled, into play. Seizing one of the boots, he approached his employer, and suiting the word to the action, addressed him in the following words:— “Si, senhor! Quanto the munnee, for the solee, the heelee, and the nailee?” The astonishment portrayed in the countenance of the Portuguese baffles all description; he surveyed Larracy from head to foot, and with much gravity of manner replied, “_En nào entendo-o que vós me dizeis._”[8]—“And sure I’m telling him so,” rejoined Larracy. “What does the fellow say?” demanded my friend. “What does he say?—What does he say, is it? He says he put a fine pair of welts to your boots, sir (and it’s true for him!); and that your honour will have to give him a dollar [_about two shillings more than was demanded by the Portuguese!_], but just only _lave_ him to me, and give _me_ the dollar, and if I don’t _bate_ him down in the price, never believe a word that I’ll tell your honour again; and I’ll carry home your boots for you, and bring you the account in _rotation_ (by which he meant in writing), and the change of the dollar.”—“Oh! never mind, you are an honest fellow, Larracy, and keep the change for your trouble; but you may tell your employer it is the last job he shall ever do for me.”—“Och! sure I told your honour he was a blackguard,” grinned Larracy, escorting his officer to the door, and putting the dollar in his pocket. ----- Footnote 8: “I do not understand a word you are saying to me.” -----