The giving away of a bridge in New England so injured him that he died, long before any of my young readers were born.
An elephant, fully as bad as Columbus, was Vladdok, who was brought to this country when quite young.

A glimpse at his enormous ears told his African nativity at once, those from Asia and Ceylon having much smaller ears.

He belonged to the old traveling circus of Blarcom & Burton, and made several journeys through our country in the days when those establishments found no use for the railways, but patiently plodded from town to town, delighting the hearts and eyes of our grandfathers and grandmothers when they were children just as we are now.
Vladdok had killed two keepers, besides badly wounding a couple of spectators in Memphis, when he yielded to one of his vicious moods.

He had been fired upon and wounded more times than any one could remember, and Mr.Blarcom, who always traveled with his show, had been on the point more than once of ordering his destruction; but he was of such large size and possessed such extraordinary intelligence, that he constituted the main attraction of the exhibition and he hesitated, well aware that sooner or later, the wicked fellow would die "with his boots on." It was after an afternoon performance in one of the Western States that Vladdok indulged in his last rampage.

His sagacious keeper had come to understand the animal so well, that he knew the outbreak was coming.
While Vladdok was unusually tractable and obedient, there was a dangerous glitter in his small eyes, and an occasional nervous movement of his head, which proved that he was only biding his time and waiting for the grand chance to present itself.
Fortunately, he did not rebel until after the exhibition was over, and the crowds had departed.