JUMBO’S HABITS, GOOD AND BAD, AND HIS GREAT POPULARITY.
I beg in all modesty to state that Jumbo instinctively is as intelligent
and sensitive on all matters pertaining to his race as the average young
man or maiden of the same time of life. Let me with all modesty
illustrate: Jumbo is very regular in his diet and all the habits of
life—he never drinks liquor or aught else before eating; he never
drinks while he is “breaking” or masticating his food.
Jumbo’s diet is composed of hay, oats, beans, onions, cabbages,
beetroot, and bread; his drink is chiefly water and _medicinally_ he can
stand a big dram of whiskey.
Jumbo’s sleeping hours are not near so good when chained up as when he
is loose and at liberty to exercise himself. He worries and chafes at
being chained by the leg, and, like all other creatures, prefers his
liberty, and is much happier, as well as healthier, when at large.
I have considerable difficulty with Jumbo when travelling on the steam
cars, for then Jumbo is like the dog in the manger. He can neither sleep
himself, nor will he let me sleep. The shaking and jar of the train, the
worrying noises, etc., keep him in a constant ferment of nervous
excitement, and he gives me little chance for sleep. I no sooner get
just nicely off into a doze than his trunk is groping into my little
bed, feeling all round my body to find my face, to ascertain if I am
there, so as to awake me to talk to him. Sometimes he is so fidgety
during the night that neither of us get any sleep at all. Jumbo gets
worried by this mode of travelling to such an extent that if I do not
get up to talk to him when he calls me, as above described, he begins to
lash his trunk against the sides of the car, and to save the car from
being broken to pieces I have to get up and play with and talk to him.
He drinks when he wants to, and, although he is held fast by a cable to
the earth a large portion of his time, he has sufficient sense or
instinct to tell me when he wants a drink of water. Jumbo is a great
“teetotaler,” and if my temperance friends want a powerful illustration
of a good, healthy, strong, and most powerful frame that practises
habits of temperance, either on the “alcohol business” or any other of
the many intemperate ways of man and beast, they may refer to my Jumbo
as a specimen. And they will not make the reference in vain, for I may
observe that the youth of this country and Great Britain, as well as
many other countries, are familiar with Jumbo, they having seen him and
shouted praises to him with all their dear young hearts; why, the world
has no idea of the joy and happiness I have experienced, as I have
marched along through the masses of the human family, listening to the
praises of the “shouting young fry” of all lands when Jumbo passed
along. If I may be pardoned, and I say it with all reverence and
humility, the shouting at Jerusalem for the “Son of Man,” when he rode
triumphantly on an ass, could not have exceeded the shout that has gone
up from the children of the United States, as they have watched and
waited long hours to get a sight of Jumbo as he has left the “greatest
show on earth,” and marched down to the dock or to the railway station
in the different towns and cities of the United States; why, I have seen
them by thousands, when they couldn’t find fifty cents to get into the
show, ready to pay a quarter of a dollar to just go inside and have one
peep at Jumbo. “It’s all we want to see, and we wont look at anything
else; we don’t care about the balance, but oh! let us see Jumbo.” My
heart has often been pained when I have seen these struggling crowds
crying out for a peep at the finest and most intelligent animal the
world has ever seen, and when I have led him forth down the road to the
depot my heart was made glad and thankful that Jumbo was appreciated,
praised, and shouted for. Sometimes it was a perfect ovation. The people
with upturned faces would look on, and with flowing handkerchiefs and
throats almost rent with effort they would call out, “Here’s Jumbo!
here’s Jumbo!” “Hello, Jumbo!” “Welcome, Jumbo! you’re a greater wonder
than what we expected, Jumbo.” “Good-by, dear old Jumbo!” “We shan’t see
you again, Jumbo!”
I meant to say before this that Jumbo heartily hates and abominates
rats, and it is no wonder, for when he was young and weak, after coming
to my care, he was almost devoured by them. Very often in the dead of
night I have been awakened by poor Jumbo’s groans, as if in pain and
trouble, and, when I hastened to see what was the matter, I have beheld
the rats by hundreds gnawing his hoofs, and snapping viciously at his
legs and tail. In my rage, I have often, with the aid of my good short
stick, and by the light of a bull’s-eye lantern, slaughtered them by the
score. This method I found did not check them. So I put my inventive
faculties to work, and made a peculiar, though simple, trap that soon
cleaned out the rodents. Jumbo really seemed to thank me for the
deliverance, judging by his affectionate antics.