What do you do when you're out shopping, and someone gives you the wrong change? If you're given less than you should be, the answer is pretty straightforward: you point it out and ask for the right change. Where things become stickier is when you receive too much change.

This is not a moot point. I would guess that, on average, I receive the wrong change once every week or two. On Wednesday, for example, shopping at the supermarket at Shelley Bay, I ran up a bill of $29.15. I proffered $30, and was given $1.85 in change. Too much, by a dollar.

The mistake the cashier made is the standard one in these matters: it's overlooking the "carry one". Just guessing, I'd say that the cashier did the following math: "He's given me $30. The bill is $29.15. So 30 minus 29 is one dollar, and then, let's see, 100 cents minus 15 cents is 85 cents." Usually, when such mistakes are made, they are for $1, or $10, suggesting that the business of carrying the one - when in this case the 15 cents and the 85 cents make one dollar, which should be carried into the dollars column - is to blame.

I work on the principle that what goes around, comes around. I figure if I'm honest with people, they'll be honest with me. My experience has been, generally, that particular view turns out to be naive, bordering on the downright stupid. I stick to it, though. As barmy ideas go, it's based on the idea that it might only work sometimes. I also think that I've heard somewhere that cashiers are held responsible for the contents of their tills, so if I'd kept the $1 in the example above, I'd have stolen it from the cashier, not the supermarket.

I don't make that distinction. I don't much care who I'd be stealing it from. I'd be stealing it, that's the point.

Others I have talked to about this take a different line. "The company always rips me off, so I rip them off when I get the chance" is a common refrain. So is "Hey, it's not my job to keep the store honest". That's true. But it is your job to deal honestly with the world, to the best of your ability, if you have any moral fibre. You know that's true; you don't need to hear it from me.

I am always amused, though, when a cashier becomes angry with me when I try to give any extra money back. That didn't happen on Wednesday, but it often does. "What do you mean, I gave you the wrong change?" is a fairly common response. "You accusing me of not knowing how to do my job?"

I suppose that, basically, I am, although I'm always nice about it. The trick is to remain calm, and explain things gently, even though it rarely works.

When someone I'm trying to help gets all vexed and starts disrespecting me, I simply close my hand on the change, say "Thank you", and leave. If someone is determined to show that they never make a mistake, and is prepared to pay for it, I'll keep the bonus, thank you very much. That doesn't happen often, but it's not unsatisfying when it does. A TV show, not so long ago, set up a secretly filmed scene in a restaurant, where diners who offered a $20 bill in payment for their dinner were deliberately given change of $100. All of the 'victims' took a second look at their change and then pocketed it; not one of them said anything about the extra.

Outside the restaurant, the show's host approached the diners, explained that they had been captured on film cheating, and asked why they hadn't said anything. Their excuses were hilarious. None were prepared to follow their dishonesty with an honest answer. Once a liar, always a liar, apparently. One said he was planning on giving the bonus to charity. Others said they hadn't noticed. No one had the courage of their convictions to tell the truth.

It's human nature, innit? That's why the Lord's Prayer includes the line "lead us not into temptation", because at heart we're weak of spirit and tend to view unexpected bonuses as our own. They're not. Do the right thing. Give them back.

* * *

In all the celebrations of Bermuda's 400th anniversary, one person has been completely overlooked. We don't even know if it was a man or a woman. History records only a single name: Sandy.

Following almost 20 years of research, I can now reveal the story for the very first time. It was Sandy who first discovered the West End. While adventurers from Sir George Somers on down limited their enquiries to the central parishes, Sandy set his or her sights further afield.

This rare piece of conversation was found, written on a fragment of parchment in Sir George Somers' own hand: Sir George: But, pray tell, what be the point of travelling farther west, Sir, than the site of Ye Dairy Queen, so named for Her Glorious Majesty Queen Elizabeth?

Sandy: I grant that likely there be nothing at the West End, but surely we must travel there before we conclude that it is dead space?

Sir George: Go ye then, Sandy, and God be wi' ye.

Sandy made it all the way to Southampton, and finally to the devil's land even further west. Sandy never came back, but in honour of his or her magnificent daring, the decision was made to name a parish after him or her: the parish only a few know today as Sandys. The rest of us pronounce it correctly, as "Sands".

I can confirm that there is no truth to the rumour that Sandy's full name was Sandy Sparish.