He accordingly took the elephant to Bridgeport and put him in charge of a competent keeper, who was dressed in a striking Oriental costume. A six acre field close by the New York and New Haven railroad track was set apart for their use. Barnum gave the keeper a time-table of the road and directed him to make a point, whenever trains were passing, always to be busily engaged with the elephant at plowing or other agricultural work as close to the track as possible. Of course the passengers noticed the strange spectacle, items concerning it appeared in the newspapers, extending even to the press of foreign lands, and thousands of people came from all parts of the country to witness the strange sight. Every mail brought numerous letters inquiring about it. Many of these were from the officers of agricultural societies in all parts of the United States, making serious and earnest inquiry as to the utility of the elephant as an agricultural animal. These letters were greatly diversified in tone, but the substance of their inquires was about as follows: 1. "Is the elephant a profitable agricultural animal?" 2. "How much can an elephant plow in a day?" 3. "How much can he draw?" 4. "How much does he eat?"--this question was invariably asked, and was a very important one. 5. "Will elephants make themselves generally useful on a farm?" 6. "What is the price of an elephant?" 7. "Where can elephants be purchased?" Then would follow a score of other inquiries, such as, whether elephants were easily managed; if they would quarrel with cattle; if it was possible to breed them; how old calf elephants must be before they would earn their own living; and so on indefinitely. Barnum presently began to be alarmed lest some one should buy an elephant and thus share the fate of the man who drew one in a lottery and did not know what to do with him. "Accordingly," he says, "I had a general letter printed, which I mailed to all my anxious inquirers. It was headed 'strictly confidential,' and I then stated, begging my correspondents 'not to mention it,' that to me the elephant was a valuable agricultural animal, because he was an excellent advertisement to my museum; but that to other farmers he would prove very unprofitable for many reasons. In the first place, such an animal would cost from $3,000 to $10,000; in cold weather he could not work at all; in any weather he could not earn half his living; he would eat up the value of his own head, trunk and body every year; and I begged my correspondents not to do so foolish a thing as to undertake elephant farming."