*Interview with Rachael Goings,* *Cape Girardeau, Missouri.*
"My full name wuz Rachael Exelina Mayberry (Mabrey) an’ my mammy’s name was Cynthy Minerva Jane Logan. You see I carried de name Mayberry ’cause dat wuz my masta’s name. Masta’ Josiah Mayberry. My mammy carried de name Logan ’cause dat wuz de famly she belonged to fo’ Masta’ bought her down in Buckskull, Arkansas. Masta had three sons, Dosh, his wife wuz Roberta, Alf his wife wuz Malissa and Byrd, his wife wuz Cully. In dem days we called ’em all by dere first name. We honored de ole Masta’, but de younger folks, we didden call Masta’ Dosh, or Masta’ Byrd—or Missus Cully. It wuz jes Dosh, Byrd or Cully. I didden’ know de ole Missus. Dey tole me she went crazy and kilt herself shortly after I wuz borned 'cause she thought I was white. We wuz de only slave famly Masta’ had en he wuz good to us. We all liked him, all o’ us but Cynthy, dat’s my mammy I allus called her Cynthy till after de war wuz over. Cynthy always called him "Ole Damn"—she hated him ’cause he brought her fum Arkansas and left her twins an’ dey poppy down dere. Cynthy’s daddy was a full Cherrokee. She wuz always mad and had a mean look in her eye. When she got her Indian up de white folks let her alone. She usta run off to de woods till she git over it. One time she tuk me and went to de woods an’ it was nigh a month fore dey found her—and I wuz nigh dead. Dey kept me at de white folks house till I got strong again. Only one time Masta’ whip me. We made lots o’ molasses on our place. Oh! lots of molasses en’ dey wuz allus some barrels standin’ upright wid bungs in close to de bottom so de ’lasses run out. One day I seed one o’ de men fix him some sweetened tobaccy. He had his tobaccy in a box about so big, en he push de bung des way, en dat way—den down, den up den he hol’ it jes loose enough so de ’lasses trickle out over his tobaccy. I watched him an thought I’d fix me some, too. I got my box fixed en’ I pushed at de bung, I pushed dis way, en dat way like I seed him do when all at once dat bung flew out en’ dat lasses flew all over de place. De barrel was full en’ it cum out so fast I couldn’t git de bung back in. I tried till I wuz wadin’ in ’lasses to my knees. Den I run call Masta’ and tell him a bung dun bust out. He say how you do dat? I tell him I jes knock again’ ’en it flew out. Den he seed my box and he knowed how I done it. Den he laid me on de floor an’ he put his foot on my haid. He took his switch and he gave me one good out. Den he kept beatin on de floor. I guess dat wuz to make de others think he wuz giving me a big beatin’. But I didden want that big foot on my haid no more.