One evening, it will be remembered, Aunt Polly caught Tom stealing sugar from the table and rapped his knuckles by way of reproof. Later, while she was out of the room, Sid, Tom's usually well-behaved half-brother, reached for the sugar bowl. It slipped between his fingers and fell to the floor. Aunt Polly returned and discovered the fragments. Tom awaited the punishment of the offender, not without a certain sense of satisfaction, but "the next instant he was sprawling on the floor! The potent palm was uplifted to strike again when Tom called out: 'Hold on, now, what er you belting me for? Sid broke it!'
"Aunt Polly paused perplexed." She had punished the wrong boy. Of course, she was too proud to confess her error, and, overcome with self-pity, Tom stalked away into the night. Life was awry between nephew and aunt. If only Aunt Polly had stopped to learn the facts!
She was, however, no different from the rest of human beings in this respect. One need not look far to find many repetitions of her mistake. There was Mrs. Brown whose relatives were estranged from her because of the constant crying of her baby. The family blamed the mother's
