Kind treatment finally set Jumbo's suspicions at rest, and he was persuaded to walk through the strong box and back again. When this had been done a number of times the box was fastened at both ends, and the poor fellow was a prisoner. He was then, without further delay, shipped on board the Assyrian Monarch, and on the 22d of March started on his voyage across the Atlantic.
It is claimed that Jumbo was sold because he had now become liable to have the "must," a disease peculiar to most full-grown elephants, in which they become very dangerous. Jumbo has had only one attack, and was well behaved during it when let out of his cell. Scott does not feel afraid of him, and Mr. Barnum has so long had the care of elephants that we think Jumbo's best friend need not worry about him.
[THE COBBLER WHO KEPT SCHOOL IN A WORKSHOP.]
Did you ever hear of John Pounds? Probably not, and yet he was one of the world's benefactors. He was born in 1766, in Portsmouth, England.
In early life he learned the trade of a shipwright, but was so injured by a fall that he had to abandon this. He then mastered the art of mending shoes, and hired a little room in a weather-beaten tenement, where for a while he lived alone, except for his birds. He loved birds dearly, and always had a number of them flying about his room, perching on his shoulder, or feeding from his hand.
In the course of time, a little cripple boy, his nephew, came to live with Uncle John and the linnets and sparrows. The poor child had not the use of his feet, which overlapped each other, and turned inward. The kind uncle did not rest until he had gradually untwisted the feet, strengthening them by an apparatus of old shoes and leather, and finally taught them to walk.
Then he thought how much more pleasantly the time would pass for the boy if he knew how to read and write, and so he began to instruct him. Presently it occurred to him that he could teach a class as easily as he could manage one pupil. So he invited some of the neighboring children in, and, as the years went on, this singular picture might be seen:
In the centre of the little shop, six feet wide and about eighteen feet long, the lame cobbler, with his jolly face and twinkling eyes, would be seated, his last or lapstone on his knee, and his hands busily plying the needle and thread. All around him would be faces. Dark eyes, blue eyes, brown eyes, would shine from every corner, and the hum of young voices and the tapping of slate-pencils were mingled with the singing of the birds which enjoyed the buzz of the school.
Some of the pupils sat on the steps of the narrow stairway which led up to the loft which was John's bedroom. Others were on boxes or blocks of wood, and some sat contentedly on the floor. They learned to read, write, and cipher as far as the Rule of Three, and besides they learned good morals, for much homely wisdom fell from the cobbler's lips.