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Updated: June 2, 2025
The impartial judge, Mr. Tinney, said he should protect the witness from answering any improper questions. In reply to this very acute remark, I observed, that it would be quite in good time to do that when any improper question was put.
But don't let us brood on the past. Let us put our heads together and think how we can get you out of this terrible situation." "I don't want to get out of it. I confidently expect to be the hit of the evening." "The hit of the evening! You! Singing!" "I'm not going to sing. I'm going to do that imitation of Frank Tinney which I did at the Trinity smoker. You haven't forgotten that?
Oh, what, what," she cried, "induced you to try to give an imitation of Bert Williams?" Sam started, stung to the quick. "It wasn't Bert Williams. It was Frank Tinney!" "Well, how was I to know?" "I did my best," said Sam sullenly. "That is the awful thought." "I did it for your sake." "I know. It gives me a horrible sense of guilt." She shuddered again.
They sent word to Mr. Casberd, their counsel, that they would send for him as soon as their jury were sworn; Mr. Tinney informing him that his attendance would be required only for a few minutes, as it would be a matter of form, merely to prove the fact, and direct the jury to give a shilling nominal damages. This was the Michaelmas sessions, 1807.
Sam Marlowe had watched his cousin's dash for the open with a consternation so complete that his sense seemed to have left him. A general, deserted by his men on some stricken field, might have felt something akin to his emotion. Of all the learned professions, the imitation of Mr. Frank Tinney is the one which can least easily be carried through single-handed.
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