The record-union., 1896-07-19
CUNNlNGHAM'S FAILURE.
Touching Story Of Hampton Institute
Pupil.
Noble Work Being Done for the Freed
men and Indians at Hamp-
ton, Virginia.


Hampton Institute, Hampton, Va, to
the support of which c. P. Huntington
is a principal contributor.
The Hampton Institute was estab-
llshed by General Samuel Chapman
Armstrong in 1868 for the freedmen Of
the South Ten years later it opened
it's doors to the Indian Now it teaches
yearly 500 negro students-each of
whom earns his board, 14O Indians, and
a primary school of $50 colored children.
Ii gives it's boys and girls over twenty
different trades and industries, prepar
ing them for self-support and better llv-
ing It's normal department has 800
graduates, 80 per cent. of whom have
taught. It's Indian department has re-
turned to the West 400 students, not all
graduates, 81 per cent. of whom have
done we'll in schools, missions, shops or
on their own farms.
To keep up this work $4,000 must be
raised each year outside the regular
sources of supply. Any sum, no matter
how small, is welcome, and may be
sent to the Principal, Hampton Insti-
tute, Hampton, Va. The school will
gladly send circulars on special facts
to any who may desire them, and sub
scription cards to any one who may
like their aid in raising small sums for
the school.
The story of 1.-The Failure of Cunning
ham," which is told by Isabella NJ. An
drews, is reprinted through the courtesy
OF it's author and the Youths Compan-
ion" for the friends of HamptonS work
is based upon actual fact in the lives of
Hampton students, and is given as a
representative of the many that might
be told of failures grown to beautiful
successes through earnest steadfastness
OF purpose.
Many of those who go out from the
school with so little that even their best
friends feel that they are not by any
means prepared for tie great struggle
before them, do, through the grace of
God and the love of their fellows, form
liltle centers of. light and influence in
some of the darkest corners-corners
into which less rude and ignorant and
simple workers could hardly penetrate.
Thus Hampton's failures may prove
Gods successes.
The story which is intensely pathetic,
is as follows:
THE FAILURE OF CUNNINGHAM.
Cunningham did not mean to be fun
ny. One look at the solemnity of his
coal-black face and the imperturbable
dignity Of his carriage would have as
sured you that; but when Cunningham
| heard that the Government paid the
expenses of the Indians at Hampton
Institute, where the colored students
had to work their own way, and came
with bow and arrow over his shoulder,
asking if Indians were not admitted
free, we looked at his unmistakable
African personality and listened to his
unmistakable African speech, and
thought Cunningham very funny in
deed.
Cunningham stayed, but he put his
bow and arrow away, and apparently
forgot that he had ever been an Indian.
At the same time he gave up his long
iEgs for luxurious ease, and chose the
blacksmith's trade. All day long he
worked at it, and when he presented
himself at half past o'clock in the
night-school, there was no other such
spotless young person in the building.
For two years he worked in the night
school At the end of that period 1t
became necessary to tell him, for the
fifth time, that it would be impossible
to promote him this time. Cunningham
sighed.
II amt nevah ben p'omoted sence I
come to dis yeah school, miss" he said
plaintively But eff yo' say it's bes'
1 reckon it must be. When does yo' think
/ kin begin toe instruc' othahs? l feel
the spirit oh desire possessin' me toe
go out an uplif' my own people"
l., J,o fn 70
Cunningham just then. To share in the
work of elevating his own people had
become his one ambition; but could we
send out the blind to lead the blind?
We were beginning to consider him one
of the hopeless cases. He was perfectly
faithful. patient and eager to learn, but
apparently unable to grasp anything
more complicated than the first four
| principles in arithmetic and the simplest
| reading and writing. 1t was hard to
| tell him that it was best for him to take
up again the old struggle with long di-
vision, and trust his career as teacher
| to the future.
| He went back into the beginning class
with pathetic patience. The develop
ment of a worthy purpose had greatly
! changed him since the time when he
| first came to Hampton with the idea of
| being taken care of by the Govern
ment There was no shirk in Cunning
! ham now
| At the close of the next term, when we
We're deiberating whether we could
stretch a point. and promote him,
! letter came to the night-school princi-
pal saying that his father had died
and his mother, with her children, was
| destitute Cunningham must come
home and take care of them.
He turned his back on Hampton with
! a heavy heart and went home / knew
the place, and many others like it
| through the South 1t was just a
/ cluster of tumble-down negro cabins a
| few miles back from the railroad The
men were too lazy to work the little
| farms that would have amply repaid the
scantiest care; the women too shiftless
to do anything but smoke and gossip;
the children too numerous to count,
growing up in absolute Ignorance and
squalor Poor Cunningham!
| Once he wrote to say that he could
! D, obably never come back, and to ask
for few books to work with by himself.
The books were sent, and then among
the cares that every day and hour
brought we lost sight of him for time.
] think it was a year after that I re-
ceived this letter from him:
Baptist Hill On. CO, Feb. 15 1887.
Dear Miss Burt: l hope You has not
forgot me- am very well an hope You
is the same. / rite You to say that I am
getting along very well and hope you
is too l gets jobs at my trade over to
| tbe Four Coruarc am all time T kin