Mr. Barnum,—I write in behalf of our dear old Jumbo. Do be kind and generous to our English boys and girls. We do so love him! and I am sure if you have children or little friends of your own, you will be able to understand how their hearts would ache, and their tears be shed, should they lose the friend who has given them such delight, and who is one of their few pleasures in this great and sorrowful city. We all know from older and cleverer heads, that by rights Jumbo is yours, as you have paid the money for him; but, dear Mr. Barnum, you who have so many famous animals, and, among them, so many elephants, surely will think seriously and kindly before you take from us our very dear friend Jumbo. About the money for damages—I am sure all our parents in this city, who love their little ones so much, will willingly help to give you back your money, with an extra sum to make up for any expense you may have had concerning him. Do let the kindest side of your nature prevail. Think over the many hearts among us nearly breaking, and ready to do any thing to implore you to give us back Jumbo. If only you are generous to us in this, you will not lose by it, either in this world or the next. I am nearly sure if Jumbo does go, he will die when he reaches you, for he has clearly shown his great reluctance to leave us; and the voyage, and every thing taken together, will have an ill effect on him; that it will be but a poor Jumbo that will appear before you, even if a worse thing does not happen, and the grief at leaving his old friends, and such new experiences, does not turn him mad.
I think,—indeed I do not think, I am sure,—that if Jumbo had been our purchase from you, and letters had been sent to us, telling of the sorrow of American children at parting with an old favorite, every English girl and boy, man and woman, would have said with one voice, that the purchase-money should be given back, and the animal left to delight the children across the Atlantic. I am sure the wish of possessing the finest animal would not have crushed our manly and womanly feelings—and those of all true men and women are generously in sympathy with the cry of children in distress.
You say that perhaps Jumbo will return to us after you have exhibited him. I am afraid he will not be alive to come, or, if he is, all his trust in his old friends and keepers will be soured, and he will not seem like the old friend he now is.
You may think it a waste of time for a young girl to write to you, when older and wiser heads have failed; but I must tell you of the thousands of children to whom the parting from Jumbo will be a terrible grief. Be to us the generous-hearted man you are believed to be, and give us back our Jumbo.
I remain, yours truly,
A YOUNG ENGLISH GIRL.
The ninety pupils of a school in the Edgeware road memorialized the secretary of the London Zoo, who replied to them thus:—
Zoölogical Society of London, 11 Hanover Square, W., March 2, 1882.
Dear Friends,—Your petition has been duly received, but I fear we shall not be able to assent to your request. We must ask you to believe that our experienced superintendent knows better what elephants are suitable to be kept in the Society’s Gardens than you do. There are still three elephants left in the gardens, upon which we hope you will have many rides in future.
Yours faithfully,