This concerns an incident that happened some years ago. Unfortunately this correspondent was heavily involved.

As is our wont, we were at a local hotel on a Friday evening, discussing world affairs. A local charity was running a meat tray raffle and we purchased tickets, perhaps as much as $20 worth, although probably less.

We recall the evening clearly.

"We'll have $1's worth, between us,'' said fellow drinkers Jono and Little Timmy (not their real names).

"Money's very tight at the moment. That's all we can afford.''

Unfortunately the aforementioned Jono and Little Timmy (not their real names) couldn't stay for the draw, explaining that following lengthy negotiations with their respective spouses they were only allowed out for a specified time.

"Would you look after our tickets?'' they asked this correspondent.

"We're not game to stay any longer.''

And we did. Now as luck would have it Jono and Little Timmy (not their real names) happened to win a couple of trays. This correspondent didn't. We dutifully collected their winnings, as asked.

"I'll make sure Jono and Little Timmy (not their real names) get these,'' we explained to the raffle sellers.

"Do you ever tire of doing charitable deeds?'' one asked.

Now at the time we didn't have any transport to deliver the said meat trays. However, we didn't let this deter us for we spent the next two days in an extensive search of local hostelries and other licensed premises in a bid to track one or both of them down. This proved fruitless. The meat trays remained in a frozen state at Struggle Street.

Days, nay, months passed and we were still unable to find our friends, Jono and Little Timmy (not their real names).

Eventually we decided to give the trays to a pensioner couple who lived nearby and who we knew to be battling under the then Howard government's draconian economic policies.

"This will last us months. God bless you,'' the kindly woman sobbed.

Eventually we encountered Jono and Little Timmy (not their real names).

"We want our meat trays,'' they demanded.

Harsh words were exchanged after we explained the fate of the trays. Innuendo then followed suggesting that this correspondent had misappropriated the meat. Our good name was besmirched.

We'd hear the whispers as we walked into a hotel on meat tray night.

"Don't leave your tickets with him. He'll pinch anything you win and feed it to his dog.''

We were hurt more than words can explain, again, if nothing else, proving we have a limited vocabulary.

However, in recent days we were again at a local hotel at raffle time. A co-drinker, long of our association, had to leave early and trusted us with his tickets. He won a tray of delicious schnitzels from Eddie (that's a free plug Chicken King). The next morning we drove to Lansdowne to deliver his prize. Okay slight exaggeration. He lives at Chatham, but his wife hails from Lansdowne, so there's some association.

The following Friday we were again at the raffles (we really do need to find a hobby), with Little Timmy and Jono (not their real names) and our Chatham friend. He was mortified to hear that we had, in the past, been wrongly accused of purloining meat trays. He told Jono and Little Timmy of the selfless deed from the previous weekend. They were unmoved.

"Yeah, he took you out one. But you won three,'' Little Timmy mocked.

We think a Royal Commission is in order here to sort this out. How do we organise one?