"And his name is—"
"Begins with an A," said I.
"Begins with an A," he says after me. "Good, very good. First letter of the alphabet, where all good children ought to begin,
'A was an apple that hung on a tree:'
and the second letter is—"
"Is L, to be sure," said I.
"L! what else could it be?" Mr. Pillikins accented the word else, and then, after he had explained it to us, we had such a good laugh. Wasn't it an excellent pun? Then he thought he had it. So, taking up his glass in his right hand and putting the thumb of his left hand in the armhole of his waistcoat, he says;
"Alexander!"
"No, no," says I, "not Alexander."
"Not Alexander! True," says he, putting his glass down again. "I was about to add that Alexander had an A and an L, but did not have an—"