Fig. 1.
Charley Sparks is one of those sunshiny young fellows who occasionally come beaming upon us out of the gloom and mist of this rather foggy world. He always has a smile, and generally something new in the way of a puzzle, or a riddle, or a notion of some sort wherewith to amuse his friends. The other evening he dropped in to see us, with his usual amount of sunshine to compete with the gas-light in the parlor, but there was an extra twinkle in his eye which told me that he had something novel to communicate. There were several of the girls present, and a couple of friends, one of whom was Maggie Martin, a bright little brunette, as piquant as a French sauce, and the other a Miss Sarah Gooch, an amiable maiden lady of about forty-five. After a few words of greeting, Charley pulled from his pocket a card, of which Fig. 1 is a copy, and presenting it to Miss Gooch, asked her if she could solve the enigma. As you will see, it is a very simple rebus, which most people could readily make out.
Miss Gooch looked at it steadily for some minutes, and then slowly and deliberately said, "Eye—yes, eye."
"That's right," said Charley; "you can dot that eye."
"Eye," repeated Miss Gooch—"door—sheep. Eye—door—sheep. Well, I don't see anything in that." Then there was a pause. Charley would not help her out. "However, I'll try again: eye—oh yes, I see—a door—sheep."
"Oh no, you don't," said Charley. "You may like a mutton-chop now and then, Miss Gooch, but to adore a whole sheep—no, no."
Miss Gooch tried it again.
"Eye—a door—sheep—lamb—ram—wether—ewe. Oh, I have it: I adore you."
"Do you?" exclaimed Charley, in the most impassioned tones, as he threw himself on one knee, and seized her hand. "Then I am indeed the happiest of mortals."
A box on the ear from the laughing Miss Gooch brought him to his feet, and terminated the love scene.