Instead of a fondly remembered incident, Grandpa would have been scarred by the shock of his father in jail, and hobbled by his family's system-induced poverty. They were at the woodpile, gathering a pan of chips to kindle the fire in the morning. They always hated to pick up chips, but every day they had to do it. Tonight they hated it more than ever. Aunt Lotty likes my hair best, anyway.
Golden hair is lots prettier than brown.
Laura's throat swelled tight, and she could not speak. She knew golden hair was prettier than brown. She couldn't speak, so she reached out quickly and slapped Mary's face. Pa was sitting just inside the door. He had seen her slap Mary.