It was not a question of could she run a ménage (pronounced minodge).

But should she be allowed to run a minodge (spelt ménage).

We are talking about Letitia McEwan of Haghill, Glasgow, who pled guilty last week to absconding with £4200 of her neighbours' money. She was sentenced to 70 hours' community service for abusing the sacred trust of the minodge. (I have opted for the Scottish spelling.) Ms McEwan was not even referred to the Financial Services Agency, or whoever regulates minodges. The punishment for this offence used to be a right sherriking. A sherriking was a public humiliation usually inflicted on an errant male but also utilised in the event of a minodge default.

A minodge, for young people more used to payday loans, is when housewives on a budget enter into a joint agreement to contribute a sum of money, usually weekly. Lots are drawn to decide the order of who spends the money. Coming first is like winning the lottery.

Occasionally, a participant would get her sheets and towels from Mackay the Drapers then develop amnesia about maintaining the payments. I know whereof I speak, having collected minodge money on behalf of my dear mother (who sadly often got her turn last).

Without wishing to murmur a judge, the sheriff was overly lenient. He obviously never relied on a minodge to get a pair of curtains. I am puzzled at the nature of a Haghill minodge where people can lose £4200. Sounds more like high finance.

Which is a hint as to how Ms McEwan might thole her community service. Advising George Osborne on tax allowances for pensioners. Being a director of the Royal Bank of Scotland. Helping Rangers FC trace those missing millions.

Minodges, it seems, have taken a turn for the worse.