The State looks out for its citizens but crooks look out for themselves

Government welfare is a beneficent policy which aims to help Britons who are sick or ailing, out of work or threatened with poverty, and most people deeply appreciate it, despite those occasions when it doesn’t work as intended, or at all.

There are others, however, who see the system as the goose that lays the golden egg, if only they can get their hands on it.

The first, positive, category includes an elderly lady of my acquaintance named Pat, who lives alone.

Pat was dozing on the couch one afternoon recently when her telephone rang and she got up to answer it. However, one of her legs had gone to sleep and she fell full-length to the floor.

Rushed to hospital by concerned relatives, Pat was given X-rays and found to have no bone breaks but deep-tissue injuries to her legs and feet, which made it difficult to look after herself.

This is where the National Health Service came into its own.

Orthopaedic specialists arrived to assess her home and immediately concluded she needed a higher armchair, a raised toilet seat, grab bars by the front door and walking aids.

Firstly, she was given the basic Zimmer frame, where the invalid uses two hands for support, instead of relying on a walking stick; then came a more sophisticated model on wheels with a shelf for carrying items and a hook for bags; and finally, a triangular, foldable walking aid for use outside the house, which is also designed for bus travel.

The specialists visited her frequently to check on progress, including one who accompanied her on walks to her usual destinations — the local corner shop, the Post Office, the bus stop — to check on problems such as gravelly paths, heavy shop doors and high steps.

She is still too fearful to tackle a bus journey but her carer is confident this will come and Pat is deeply grateful.

She swears she could not have come so far so quickly without this expert help, all free, of course from the NHS.

Stephen Bellas represents the other side of the coin. Back in 2013, while on the run from a burglary charge, he created a fictitious person named Peter Foley and acquired a National Insurance number and a bank account in his name.

He then used the Foley name to claim payments from the many benefits available to people enduring hard times.

Between 2013 and 2018, Bellas/Foley received a total of £97,682, mainly in housing allowance (for those who struggle to pay rent) and jobseekers’ allowance (for those looking for work), as well as personal independence payments.

He was imprisoned for three years at Newcastle Crown Court by Judge Sarah Mallett, who said, “This was a fairly sophisticated course of conduct over a period of time … you created a whole alter ego.”

They are known as trolls and they get their kicks from abusing people online while hiding behind the shield of anonymity. But that may be coming to an end.

Television stars Rachel Riley and Tracy Ann Oberman recently criticised Mr Jeremy Corbyn, leader of the opposition Labour Party, accusing him of not doing enough to clamp down on anti-Semitism in the party.

The result was a deluge of abuse for the two on Twitter. Now they are planning to sue 60-70 people on charges of libel and harassment.

The women’s lawyer, Mark Lewis, contacted the trolls and asked for their contact details. If they refuse, he plans to go to court to compel Twitter to release the information.

“This is not about money,” he said. “Rachel and Tracy are not looking to enrich themselves by taking legal action. They are looking to stop vile lies.”

Walking through heavy fog, a hiker did not see the cliff edge and hurtled towards the valley floor hundreds of feet below.

Frantically, he grabbed for a short tree growing from the cliff face and managed to hang on.

“Help,” he called desperately in panic, “is there anybody up there?” A warm, deep voice responded, “Have faith, this is the Lord, let go of the branch and I will catch you.”

There was a long silence, then the dangling man called again: “Is there anybody else up there?”

Two ministers rode their bikes to church every Sunday until one reported that his machine had been stolen.

The other advised him: “Read through the 10 Commandments and when you get to number eight, ‘Though shalt not steal,’ a thief will come forward and confess.“

Next Sunday, the minister turned up complete with bike. “So somebody came forward and confessed to breaking the Eighth Command?” asked his friend.

“Not really,” the first minister said. “I only got to number seven, ‘Thou shalt not commit adultery,’ and I remembered where I left the bike.”