‘They will not let a body rest a minute;
‘I’m fairly sick of it, and so I’ll tell ’em.
‘I say, my friend, is this the way to Belem?’
‘Senhor,’ with shoulders shrugged, ‘no, no, intende.’[5]
‘No, in ten day! if I go there,’ says John, ‘the Devil mend me.’
A British Soldier, who was near at hand
Said, ‘Sir, our Lingo he don’t understand:
‘’Tis but three Miles, strait forward if you please,
‘There’s no use axing them there Portuguese.’
John travell’d on—but soon he slack’d his pace,