It was here that Booker arrived in the fall of 1872, with a little satchel of clothes, fifty cents in his pocket, a happy heart, and a determination to succeed.
Just as soon as he was able to get an interview, he went to the head teacher, Mary F. Mackie, and told her that he wanted to enter school. She stared at him. He was dirty after his long and hard journey. His clothes were soiled. He realized at once that he was making a bad impression, and it was not his fault. Miss Mackie would not say whether she would admit him or not. She made him wait. He was worried. All he wanted was a chance to show her that he meant business. Then a very interesting thing happened. Booker Washington tells the story himself. He called it his examination.
“After some time had passed,” he says, “the head teacher said: ‘The adjoining recitation room needs sweeping. Take the broom and sweep it.’
“It occurred to me at once that here was my chance. Never did I receive an order with more delight. I knew that I could sweep, for Mrs. Ruffner had thoroughly taught me how to do that when I lived with her.
“I swept the recitation room three times. Then I got a dusting-cloth and I dusted it four times. All the woodwork around the walls, every bench, table, and desk, I went over four times with my dusting-cloth. Besides, every piece of furniture had been moved and every closet and corner in the room had been thoroughly cleaned. I had the feeling that in a large measure my future depended upon the impression I made upon the teacher in the cleaning of that room.
“When I was through, I rapped on the door, and reported to the teacher. She was a ‘Yankee’ woman who knew just where to look for dirt. She went into the room and inspected the floor and closets; then she took her handkerchief and rubbed it on the woodwork about the walls, and over the table and benches. When she was unable to find one bit of dirt on the floor, or a particle of dust on any of the furniture, she quietly remarked, ‘I guess you will do to enter this institution.’
“I was one of the happiest souls on earth. The sweeping of that room was my college examination, and never did any youth pass an entrance examination into Harvard or Yale that gave him more genuine satisfaction. I have passed several examinations since then, but I have always felt that this one was the best one I ever passed.”[[7]]
As a result of his sweeping the room, he was permitted to enter his classes and was also given a job as janitor, and his college career began. It was a new, strange life. He sat down at a table, which had a cloth on it, to eat his meals. He slept in a bed that had sheets on it. These sheets gave him trouble. The first night he slept under both of them. He didn’t think that was right, so the next night he slept on top of both of them. The third night he watched his roommates,—there were seven of them in the same room,—and he saw how the thing was done. After that, he did as the others did and slept between the sheets.
“I sometimes feel,” he says, “that almost the most valuable lesson I got at Hampton Institute was in the use and value of a bath. I learned there, for the first time, some of its value was not only in keeping the body healthy, but in inspiring selfrespect and promoting virtue. In all my travels in the South and elsewhere since leaving Hampton Institute, I have always in some way sought my daily bath. To get it sometimes when I have been the guest of my own people in a single-roomed cabin has not been easy to do except by slipping away to some stream in the woods. I have always tried to teach my people that some provision for bathing should be a part of every house.”[[8]]
For some time he had only one pair of socks. He had a time of it with these socks. When they were too soiled to wear, he would wash them out at night, hang them by the fire and dry them out, and put them on the next morning. He also had a hard time with his clothes. They had inspection every morning. The students were lined up, and General Armstrong passed along the lines and carefully examined every one. If a button was off, or if the clothes were torn or soiled in any way, the General would see it. Booker had a hard time keeping his clothes in such a condition that they would pass muster.