"But I would have seen it and laughed. My aunts can't ever see the joke. Then they blame me because they are afraid of Grandfather and as soon as his back is turned they pick on me.
"If there was any fun in their picking I wouldn't mind a bit but they are just hard and cold and mean. They raise their eyebrows and talk about how blond all true Taylors are, and how well grown, and what a misfortune it would be to be born small and dark. Of course they want me to understand that they do not really believe I am their brother's child. That's kind of hard because—because they mean to say something about my poor little mother. They don't say it right out, but I can see they mean unkind things."
Aunt Pearly Gates looked distressed. She resumed her knitting, adroitly picking up a dropped stitch.
"You ain't never answered my question, honey baby: Does you love Miss Myra and Miss Evelyn the way you wants them ter love you? Does you sho' 'nough keer whether they loves you or not? I'm a old, old ooman, Miss Beck baby, and I's took a heap er notice er folks in my time an' I ain't never seen hate all on one side. I ain't a sayin' they didn't start it in the fust beginning but what I is a sayin' is
