SIR LUKE--A pox o' your law; you make me lose sight of my story. One
morning a Welsh coach-maker came with his bill to my lord, whose name
was unluckily Lloyd. My lord had the man up: "You are called, I think,
Mr. Lloyd?"--"At your Lordship's service, my lord."--"What, Lloyd with
an L?"--"It was with an L indeed, my lord."--"Because in your part of
the world I have heard that Lloyd and Floyd were synonymous, the very
same names."--"Very often indeed, my Lord."--"But you always spell
yours with an L?"--"Always."--"That, Mr. Lloyd, is a little unlucky;
for you must know I am now paying my debts alphabetically, and in four
or five years you might have come in with an F; but I am afraid I can
give you no hopes for your L. Ha, ha, ha!"