America’s wisest and kindliest lawyer tackles a series of impossible cases—and wins
Ephraim Tutt, Esq., never met a hard luck story he didn’t like. The rare lawyer happy to forego his fee, Tutt specializes in defending the downtrodden against the powerful and the corrupt. In Manhattan and his hometown of Pottsville, New York, he argues cases involving murder, forgery, and theft, always finding some arcane legal point to save the day—much to the chagrin of the prosecution. In this delightful collection, Tutt brings his sharp mind and genial wit to bear on the cases of the “Mock Hen and Mock Turtle,” the “Hepplewhite Tramp,” the “Lallapaloosa Limited,” and many others.
Based on author Arthur Train’s experiences working in the offices of the New York District Attorney, Tutt and Mr. Tutt is a must-read for fans of legal mysteries.
This ebook features a new introduction by Otto Penzler and has been professionally proofread to ensure accuracy and readability on all devices.
Arthur Cheney Train (1875-1945) was an American lawyer and legal thriller writer, particularly known for his novels of courtroom intrigue and the creation of the fictional lawyer Mr. Ephraim Tutt. In 1919, he created the popular character of Mr. Ephraim Tutt, a wiley old lawyer who supported the common man and always had a trick up his sleeve to right the law's injustices. He also coauthored the science fiction novel The Man Who Rocked the Earth (1915) with eminent physicist Robert W. Wood. After 1922, Train devoted himself to writing. His works include: The "Goldfish" (1914), Tutt and Mr. Tutt (1919) and By Advice of Counsel (1921). Robert Williams Wood (1868-1955) was an American physicist. He was a careful experimenter known for his many contributions to optics including infrared and ultraviolet photography, and the liquid mirror telescope. He was also a writer of science fiction and nonsense verse. He also authored non-technical works. In 1915, Wood co-authored a science fiction novel, The Man Who Rocked the Earth, with Arthur Train. He also wrote and illustrated a book of nonsense verse, How to Tell the Birds from the Flowers.
Some authors and their writing age well and some don't. I highly suspect that, 100 years from now, people will still think the same of Shakespeare, Dickens, and Poe as they do now. On the other hand, 22nd century readers may well wonder just what the readers of today saw in some currently popular writers. The works of Arthur Train, including his short story collection Tutt and Mr. Tutt, fall into the latter category.
Train was a former New York City assistant district attorney turned defense attorney turned writer. In that regard, he was a precursor to writers like Erle Stanley Gardner and John Grisham, and his most popular works probably were his legal stories. But those expecting either Perry Mason-style whodunits or Grishamesque thrillers will be disappointed. Unlike his literary progeny, Train was an old=fashioned tale spinner who enjoyed expounding at length on his observations of the law and his fellow man. For readers of today, their enjoyment of the stories in Tutt and Mr. Tutt will depend on their taste for that type of writing and their willingness to tolerate some material that often relies on rather crude racial stereotypes.
The Mr. Tutt in these stories is a somewhat elderly and crotchety but highly gifted criminal trial attorney named Ephraim Tutt, who bears a considerable resemblance to Clarence Darrow insofar as his choice of cases is concerned. He takes on clients pretty much on a whim based on whether their case strikes his fancy. On the other hand, the Tutt in the stories is a younger attorney of the same last name who serves as Mr. Tutt’s Archie Goodwin (although the stories are written in the third person). Not surprisingly, they are the only two practicing Tutts in New York, and Tutt the younger actively sought out Mr. Tutt because he felt that his last name would give him an edge in landing the job.
The seven stories in this 100-page collection were originally published in various general interest magazines shortly after World War I and are now in the public domain. They tend to be somewhat longwinded, and author Train often takes a long time to get to his point. The stories often revolve around the art of selecting the right jury (Mr. Tutt inevitably proves more adept at this than do his exasperated District Attorney opponents). But, while selecting the right jury is a major factor in the outcome of criminal trials, either 100 years ago or today, Train’s discussion of this point often goes on way too long in these stories, reducing the impact of his endings, in which readers learn just what motivated the jury, to a footnote. Indeed, I only found a couple of the stories to have really good endings.
Surprisingly, three out of these seven stories involve con artistry of one sort or another, as the law firm’s clients turn out to be either con artists themselves or the victims of such. Train proves himself a bit of an old-style David Mamet in telling these tales, in which much of the enjoyment involves seeing just how the con plays out. The best story in the book, “Samuel and Delilah,” finds the younger Tutt rallying to the defense of a young woman who has been treated rather harshly by a would-be suitor who proved much less upright than he first led her to believe. Another good story is “The Dog Andrew,” a tale that revolves around the law of the time regarding dog bites and the liability of the dog owner for the canine’s use of its canines on another person.
While Train, at his best, can be clever and charming, his writing also reflects the racial (and to certain extent class) profiling of his era. Many of the characters are pretty much defined by their ethnicity, and their personalities are stereotypes of the popular perceptions of the era. They talk with exaggerated accents, usually for humorous effect, and Train often uses derogatory slang expressions in a casual manner, intended merely to convey the character’s ethnicity, much as if I described Mr. Tutt as a white lawyer. While I’m sure that audiences of Train’s day found nothing exceptional about this, modern readers should be forewarned.
The worst story in this regard is “Mock Hen and Mock Turtle,” in which members of a Chinese tong execute a rival in an honor killing, and the tong elders hire Mr. Tutt to defend the killer. The story eventually boils down to just what type of white jurors are willing (or unable to avoid) to decide a squabble between two groups of Chinese gangsters and whose story they are more likely to believe. All the while, the various Chinese characters act and talk like they came off the set of a Charlie Chan movie of the 1930’s.
Readers’ enjoyment of Tutt and Mr. Tutt will probably depend on their tolerance and appreciation for Train’s style of writing. Those who enjoy courtroom theatrics, thrillers, or old-fashioned whodunits will be disappointed, and those who don’t care for Train’s racial descriptions (which were probably non-exceptional for the era) may well be highly offended . On the other hand, those who like Train’s folksy style and ruminations on the state of the law in that era will find them quaint but enjoyable. I found his best stories (the con artist ones) entertaining enough to give the book a marginal recommendation. However, the case of Tutt and Mr. Tutt is very much a case of “your mileage may vary.”
I heard a story on NPR about the literary character of Ephraim Tutt, a merciful lawyer who took on cases for people of little means or standing. Arthur Train wrote these very popular stories in the first half of the 20th century, and in the early 1940s published an "Autobiography of Emphraim Tutt" that was an early literary hoax. I was intrigued by this popular character. So I looked in the Milwaukee Library system for one of the novels, and in Central Storage I found this edition from 1920. It is 348 pages.
I expected a heart-warming but serious "David-takes-on-Goliath" type book, where the merciful attorney takes on influential people on behalf of his disadvantaged clients and wins through superior knowledge of the law and courtroom skill. This is somewhat true, but I was surprised to find that it is a genuinely funny book. It is peppered with laugh-out-loud moments, takes joy in creating some preposterous situations, and never takes itself too seriously. The scene with the swearing in of the Chinese witness put a smile on my face for a day or two.
You don't have to read much to realize this was written with the attitudes and sensibilities of a different era. It is certainly not politically-correct and includes some prejudice that seems downright shocking now. Sometimes the lawyers would discuss the meaning or role of the law using a level of rhetoric that is unusual today. But the book is very good-hearted and a surprisingly fun read.
I didn't much care for the first story in the book, and the second I liked even less but, with the third story, I began to warm up to the two title characters, and suddenly found that the stories had a great deal of charm. I thought the second to last story, "The Hepplewhite Tramp," especially entertaining. I will seek out more books featuring Tutt and Mr. Tutt in the future.
I did not have the e-book. I had the real, hardcover Tutt and Mr. Tutt, released in 1920. Just think—102 years old! And in excellent shape. I love reading old books. My Dad would have been 4 years old when this book was published and my Mom not even born for 4 more years. Times were different then and the language and wording was dated but it was a good book with lots of humor. I liked to picture Perry Mason as Mr. Tutt. And an added bonus was Mrs.Wiggin, as from the Carol Burnett show. It was a fun read but I probably would never have listened to it on e-book. This is a real book that rewards the reader in a way only real books can.
I like to read older books and very much enjoy the authenticity of their settings. I recognize that they were products of their era and often express views that we do not approve today but can usually accept them as products of their time as long as they are not extreme. This book exceeded my tolerance limits by a LOT, and I could only last through 2 stories. In the first story the client was an Italian American man who killed his wife's former boyfriend, who kept harassing her. We often forget today the prejudice there was against Italians in the first part of the 20th century, but this story REALLY brought it out. The second story was about a Chinese defendant who was part of a Tong, and the stereotyping and prejudice in this story was even worse. For the record, despite what I consider disgusting attitudes towards the ethnic groups to which the clients belonged, both defendants get off, although we and the lawyers know both are guilty. P S Having taken on two major ethnic groups in the first 2 stories, I wonder how the author would offend me in the third? :-)
Written by, I assume, a fine upstanding member of the bar, the level of respect afforded to the profession is vividly explained.
I believe there is a difference between legal and illegal which may not align exactly with the difference between right and wrong. I must thank Mr. Train for for his validation of my belief, and for an enjoyable read.
Some authors and their writing age well and some don't. I highly suspect that, 100 years from now, people will still think the same of Shakespeare, Dickens, and Poe as they do now. On the other hand, 22nd century readers may well wonder just what the readers of today saw in some currently popular writers. The works of Arthur Train, including his short story collection Tutt and Mr. Tutt, fall into the latter category.
Train was a former New York City assistant district attorney turned defense attorney turned writer. In that regard, he was a precursor to writers like Erle Stanley Gardner and John Grisham, and his most popular works probably were his legal stories. But those expecting either Perry Mason-style whodunits or Grishamesque thrillers will be disappointed. Unlike his literary progeny, Train was an old=fashioned tale spinner who enjoyed expounding at length on his observations of the law and his fellow man. For readers of today, their enjoyment of the stories in Tutt and Mr. Tutt will depend on their taste for that type of writing and their willingness to tolerate some material that often relies on rather crude racial stereotypes.
The Mr. Tutt in these stories is a somewhat elderly and crotchety but highly gifted criminal trial attorney named Ephraim Tutt, who bears a considerable resemblance to Clarence Darrow insofar as his choice of cases is concerned. He takes on clients pretty much on a whim based on whether their case strikes his fancy. On the other hand, the Tutt in the stories is a younger attorney of the same last name who serves as Mr. Tutt’s Archie Goodwin (although the stories are written in the third person). Not surprisingly, they are the only two practicing Tutts in New York, and Tutt the younger actively sought out Mr. Tutt because he felt that his last name would give him an edge in landing the job.
The seven stories in this 100-page collection were originally published in various general interest magazines shortly after World War I and are now in the public domain. They tend to be somewhat longwinded, and author Train often takes a long time to get to his point. The stories often revolve around the art of selecting the right jury (Mr. Tutt inevitably proves more adept at this than do his exasperated District Attorney opponents). But, while selecting the right jury is a major factor in the outcome of criminal trials, either 100 years ago or today, Train’s discussion of this point often goes on way too long in these stories, reducing the impact of his endings, in which readers learn just what motivated the jury, to a footnote. Indeed, I only found a couple of the stories to have really good endings.
Surprisingly, three out of these seven stories involve con artistry of one sort or another, as the law firm’s clients turn out to be either con artists themselves or the victims of such. Train proves himself a bit of an old-style David Mamet in telling these tales, in which much of the enjoyment involves seeing just how the con plays out. The best story in the book, “Samuel and Delilah,” finds the younger Tutt rallying to the defense of a young woman who has been treated rather harshly by a would-be suitor who proved much less upright than he first led her to believe. Another good story is “The Dog Andrew,” a tale that revolves around the law of the time regarding dog bites and the liability of the dog owner for the canine’s use of its canines on another person.
While Train, at his best, can be clever and charming, his writing also reflects the racial (and to certain extent class) profiling of his era. Many of the characters are pretty much defined by their ethnicity, and their personalities are stereotypes of the popular perceptions of the era. They talk with exaggerated accents, usually for humorous effect, and Train often uses derogatory slang expressions in a casual manner, intended merely to convey the character’s ethnicity, much as if I described Mr. Tutt as a white lawyer. While I’m sure that audiences of Train’s day found nothing exceptional about this, modern readers should be forewarned.
The worst story in this regard is “Mock Hen and Mock Turtle,” in which members of a Chinese tong execute a rival in an honor killing, and the tong elders hire Mr. Tutt to defend the killer. The story eventually boils down to just what type of white jurors are willing (or unable to avoid) to decide a squabble between two groups of Chinese gangsters and whose story they are more likely to believe. All the while, the various Chinese characters act and talk like they came off the set of a Charlie Chan movie of the 1930’s.
Readers’ enjoyment of Tutt and Mr. Tutt will probably depend on their tolerance and appreciation for Train’s style of writing. Those who enjoy courtroom theatrics, thrillers, or old-fashioned whodunits will be disappointed, and those who don’t care for Train’s racial descriptions (which were probably non-exceptional for the era) may well be highly offended . On the other hand, those who like Train’s folksy style and ruminations on the state of the law in that era will find them quaint but enjoyable. I found his best stories (the con artist ones) entertaining enough to give the book a marginal recommendation. However, the case of Tutt and Mr. Tutt is very much a case of “your mileage may vary.”
Some authors and their writing age well and some don't. I highly suspect that, 100 years from now, people will still think the same of Shakespeare, Dickens, and Poe as they do now. On the other hand, 22nd century readers may well wonder just what the readers of today saw in some currently popular writers. The works of Arthur Train, including his short story collection Tutt and Mr. Tutt, fall into the latter category.
Train was a former New York City assistant district attorney turned defense attorney turned writer. In that regard, he was a precursor to writers like Erle Stanley Gardner and John Grisham, and his most popular works probably were his legal stories. But those expecting either Perry Mason-style whodunits or Grishamesque thrillers will be disappointed. Unlike his literary progeny, Train was an old=fashioned tale spinner who enjoyed expounding at length on his observations of the law and his fellow man. For readers of today, their enjoyment of the stories in Tutt and Mr. Tutt will depend on their taste for that type of writing and their willingness to tolerate some material that often relies on rather crude racial stereotypes.
The Mr. Tutt in these stories is a somewhat elderly and crotchety but highly gifted criminal trial attorney named Ephraim Tutt, who bears a considerable resemblance to Clarence Darrow insofar as his choice of cases is concerned. He takes on clients pretty much on a whim based on whether their case strikes his fancy. On the other hand, the Tutt in the stories is a younger attorney of the same last name who serves as Mr. Tutt’s Archie Goodwin (although the stories are written in the third person). Not surprisingly, they are the only two practicing Tutts in New York, and Tutt the younger actively sought out Mr. Tutt because he felt that his last name would give him an edge in landing the job.
The seven stories in this 100-page collection were originally published in various general interest magazines shortly after World War I and are now in the public domain. They tend to be somewhat longwinded, and author Train often takes a long time to get to his point. The stories often revolve around the art of selecting the right jury (Mr. Tutt inevitably proves more adept at this than do his exasperated District Attorney opponents). But, while selecting the right jury is a major factor in the outcome of criminal trials, either 100 years ago or today, Train’s discussion of this point often goes on way too long in these stories, reducing the impact of his endings, in which readers learn just what motivated the jury, to a footnote. Indeed, I only found a couple of the stories to have really good endings.
Surprisingly, three out of these seven stories involve con artistry of one sort or another, as the law firm’s clients turn out to be either con artists themselves or the victims of such. Train proves himself a bit of an old-style David Mamet in telling these tales, in which much of the enjoyment involves seeing just how the con plays out. The best story in the book, “Samuel and Delilah,” finds the younger Tutt rallying to the defense of a young woman who has been treated rather harshly by a would-be suitor who proved much less upright than he first led her to believe. Another good story is “The Dog Andrew,” a tale that revolves around the law of the time regarding dog bites and the liability of the dog owner for the canine’s use of its canines on another person.
While Train, at his best, can be clever and charming, his writing also reflects the racial (and to certain extent class) profiling of his era. Many of the characters are pretty much defined by their ethnicity, and their personalities are stereotypes of the popular perceptions of the era. They talk with exaggerated accents, usually for humorous effect, and Train often uses derogatory slang expressions in a casual manner, intended merely to convey the character’s ethnicity, much as if I described Mr. Tutt as a white lawyer. While I’m sure that audiences of Train’s day found nothing exceptional about this, modern readers should be forewarned.
The worst story in this regard is “Mock Hen and Mock Turtle,” in which members of a Chinese tong execute a rival in an honor killing, and the tong elders hire Mr. Tutt to defend the killer. The story eventually boils down to just what type of white jurors are willing (or unable to avoid) to decide a squabble between two groups of Chinese gangsters and whose story they are more likely to believe. All the while, the various Chinese characters act and talk like they came off the set of a Charlie Chan movie of the 1930’s.
Readers’ enjoyment of Tutt and Mr. Tutt will probably depend on their tolerance and appreciation for Train’s style of writing. Those who enjoy courtroom theatrics, thrillers, or old-fashioned whodunits will be disappointed, and those who don’t care for Train’s racial descriptions (which were probably non-exceptional for the era) may well be highly offended . On the other hand, those who like Train’s folksy style and ruminations on the state of the law in that era will find them quaint but enjoyable. I found his best stories (the con artist ones) entertaining enough to give the book a marginal recommendation. However, the case of Tutt and Mr. Tutt is very much a case of “your mileage may vary.”
Some authors and their writing age well and some don't. I highly suspect that, 100 years from now, people will still think the same of Shakespeare, Dickens, and Poe as they do now. On the other hand, 22nd century readers may well wonder just what the readers of today saw in some currently popular writers. The works of Arthur Train, including his short story collection Tutt and Mr. Tutt, fall into the latter category.
Train was a former New York City assistant district attorney turned defense attorney turned writer. In that regard, he was a precursor to writers like Erle Stanley Gardner and John Grisham, and his most popular works probably were his legal stories. But those expecting either Perry Mason-style whodunits or Grishamesque thrillers will be disappointed. Unlike his literary progeny, Train was an old=fashioned tale spinner who enjoyed expounding at length on his observations of the law and his fellow man. For readers of today, their enjoyment of the stories in Tutt and Mr. Tutt will depend on their taste for that type of writing and their willingness to tolerate some material that often relies on rather crude racial stereotypes.
The Mr. Tutt in these stories is a somewhat elderly and crotchety but highly gifted criminal trial attorney named Ephraim Tutt, who bears a considerable resemblance to Clarence Darrow insofar as his choice of cases is concerned. He takes on clients pretty much on a whim based on whether their case strikes his fancy. On the other hand, the Tutt in the stories is a younger attorney of the same last name who serves as Mr. Tutt’s Archie Goodwin (although the stories are written in the third person). Not surprisingly, they are the only two practicing Tutts in New York, and Tutt the younger actively sought out Mr. Tutt because he felt that his last name would give him an edge in landing the job.
The seven stories in this 100-page collection were originally published in various general interest magazines shortly after World War I and are now in the public domain. They tend to be somewhat longwinded, and author Train often takes a long time to get to his point. The stories often revolve around the art of selecting the right jury (Mr. Tutt inevitably proves more adept at this than do his exasperated District Attorney opponents). But, while selecting the right jury is a major factor in the outcome of criminal trials, either 100 years ago or today, Train’s discussion of this point often goes on way too long in these stories, reducing the impact of his endings, in which readers learn just what motivated the jury, to a footnote. Indeed, I only found a couple of the stories to have really good endings.
Surprisingly, three out of these seven stories involve con artistry of one sort or another, as the law firm’s clients turn out to be either con artists themselves or the victims of such. Train proves himself a bit of an old-style David Mamet in telling these tales, in which much of the enjoyment involves seeing just how the con plays out. The best story in the book, “Samuel and Delilah,” finds the younger Tutt rallying to the defense of a young woman who has been treated rather harshly by a would-be suitor who proved much less upright than he first led her to believe. Another good story is “The Dog Andrew,” a tale that revolves around the law of the time regarding dog bites and the liability of the dog owner for the canine’s use of its canines on another person.
While Train, at his best, can be clever and charming, his writing also reflects the racial (and to certain extent class) profiling of his era. Many of the characters are pretty much defined by their ethnicity, and their personalities are stereotypes of the popular perceptions of the era. They talk with exaggerated accents, usually for humorous effect, and Train often uses derogatory slang expressions in a casual manner, intended merely to convey the character’s ethnicity, much as if I described Mr. Tutt as a white lawyer. While I’m sure that audiences of Train’s day found nothing exceptional about this, modern readers should be forewarned.
The worst story in this regard is “Mock Hen and Mock Turtle,” in which members of a Chinese tong execute a rival in an honor killing, and the tong elders hire Mr. Tutt to defend the killer. The story eventually boils down to just what type of white jurors are willing (or unable to avoid) to decide a squabble between two groups of Chinese gangsters and whose story they are more likely to believe. All the while, the various Chinese characters act and talk like they came off the set of a Charlie Chan movie of the 1930’s.
Readers’ enjoyment of Tutt and Mr. Tutt will probably depend on their tolerance and appreciation for Train’s style of writing. Those who enjoy courtroom theatrics, thrillers, or old-fashioned whodunits will be disappointed, and those who don’t care for Train’s racial descriptions (which were probably non-exceptional for the era) may well be highly offended . On the other hand, those who like Train’s folksy style and ruminations on the state of the law in that era will find them quaint but enjoyable. I found his best stories (the con artist ones) entertaining enough to give the book a marginal recommendation. However, the case of Tutt and Mr. Tutt is very much a case of “your mileage may vary.”
My brother recommended this book to me. I read it and thoroughly enjoyed it. As you will notice, my brothers and I share the same surname, “Tutt”. I didn’t know we had any lawyers in our ancestry—pretty good ones at that. I’ve upgraded my opinion of lawyers because of this book.
Maybe I've been watching too many Perry Mason reruns, but I can hear Raymond Burr speaking as Mr. Tutt, and everyone of the actors have their specific parts in these stories...even the whiney DA. :)
This book was simply entertaining. A series of short stories with the same attorney. I enjoyed this immensely. Not a deep read, but certainly a fun one.
This is a 1919 book (a collection of seven short stories) written by Arthur Train, a lawyer in real life. This is the first in the series and introduced Mr. Ephraim Tutt. Otto Penzler, who wrote the introduction for this republished edition, called Mr. Tutt one of the wisest lawyer in literature and one of the kindest, handling many cases which he cannot collect a fee. He likes to represent underdogs. Mr. Tutt often resorts to obscure legal technicalities to win and has never lost a case. In a way, he is like a Perry Mason of an earlier time.
This book is a collection of seven short stories, which are all quite good, often humorous and sometimes philosophical. However, like many of writers of that period, the book contains racial prejudices and insensitive languages of that bygone era. The stories are all about the law firm of Tutt & Tutt in New York City. The senior partner of the firm is Ephraim Tutt. The junior partner shares the same last name as Ephraim Tutt but the two are not related. In the book, senior Tutt is called Mr. Tutt and junior Tutt is just referred to as Tutt. We were told Tutt is 48 years old and married. Mr. Tutt is about 20 years older than his junior partner. Mr. Tutt is the brain and voice of the firm and Tutt is the eyes and legs.
Here are the seven stories in the book:
(1) The Human Element: this is my least favorite of the group because the ending is too abrupt and not satisfying. The story is about Mr. Tutt defending a client who killed a fellow Italian to defend the honor of his wife. The story gave a lot of background information about Mr. Tutt, Tutt and the law partnership and is a good introduction to the series. Here we were told, among other things, Mr. Tutt is a mellow old man with a dry sense of humor and he is rich with no family. He is also very generous to people. He also likes to help the underdog but he hates the rich and big corporations.
(2) Mock Hen and Mock Turtle: this is a pretty good story even though it has quite a bit of contemporary racial prejudices and insensitive languages. The case involves two Chinese tongs who were feuding with one another. Mr. Tutt’s client, who is a member of one of the two feuding gangs, killed a member of the rival gang and he was tried for murder. Mr. Tutt was able to get him acquitted. The story, however, is interesting because it gave an insight into how race plays into the court and jury system in early 20th century and the unique issues that came up when an all-white jury have to try a case involving almost all non-white non-English speaking witnesses and defendant with different value systems.
(3) Samuel and Delilah: I like this story a lot. It is both very clever and philosophical. The story is about Tutt (the junior partner) going through a mid-life crisis and fell hard for a pretty female client. He tried to help the client by designing for her an ingenious plan. It turns out the so-called client was a blackmailer who then turned around and used the scheme against Tutt.
(4) The Dog Andrew: one of my favorite story in the book. Mr. Tutt’s client was indicted by the grand jury for assault in the second degree with a deadly weapon because his dog bit an inconsiderate and trespassing neighbor. Mr. Tutt relied on a clever legal technicality to find fault in the grand jury indictment and got his client acquitted. Like many of the Tutt stories, this one has an interesting twist at the end.
(5) Wile Versus Guile: this is also a very solid story. In this case, Mr. Tutt saved a widow who was a victim of a con artist from destitute. The widow invested her life saving in a pyramid scheme which pays a very high dividend. Mr. Tutt, by devising his own scheme, conned the con artist into returning all the invested capital to the client. The scheme was a clever one and the story is quite heart warming.
(6) The Hepplewhite Tramp: the case involves a tramp entering the rich Mr. Hepplewhite’s home. He was found sleeping in on a guest room bed when he was found. The police arrived quickly and arrested him for burglary. Mr. Tutt believed he was innocent and defended him. Nevertheless the jury found him guilty for burglary. The end has a very ironic and humorous twist.
(7) Lallapaloosa Limited: this is a corporate law case and involves some insiders of a mining corporation trying to trade using inside information and take advantage of minority shareholders who do not know the inside information. It touches on issues like corporate reorganization and rights of minority shareholders.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Some authors and their writing age well and some don't. I highly suspect that, 100 years from now, people will still think the same of Shakespeare, Dickens, and Poe as they do now. On the other hand, 22nd century readers may well wonder just what the readers of today saw in some currently popular writers. The works of Arthur Train, including his short story collection Tutt and Mr. Tutt, fall into the latter category.
Train was a former New York City assistant district attorney turned defense attorney turned writer. In that regard, he was a precursor to writers like Erle Stanley Gardner and John Grisham, and his most popular works probably were his legal stories. But those expecting either Perry Mason-style whodunits or Grishamesque thrillers will be disappointed. Unlike his literary progeny, Train was an old=fashioned tale spinner who enjoyed expounding at length on his observations of the law and his fellow man. For readers of today, their enjoyment of the stories in Tutt and Mr. Tutt will depend on their taste for that type of writing and their willingness to tolerate some material that often relies on rather crude racial stereotypes.
The Mr. Tutt in these stories is a somewhat elderly and crotchety but highly gifted criminal trial attorney named Ephraim Tutt, who bears a considerable resemblance to Clarence Darrow insofar as his choice of cases is concerned. He takes on clients pretty much on a whim based on whether their case strikes his fancy. On the other hand, the Tutt in the stories is a younger attorney of the same last name who serves as Mr. Tutt’s Archie Goodwin (although the stories are written in the third person). Not surprisingly, they are the only two practicing Tutts in New York, and Tutt the younger actively sought out Mr. Tutt because he felt that his last name would give him an edge in landing the job.
The seven stories in this 100-page collection were originally published in various general interest magazines shortly after World War I and are now in the public domain. They tend to be somewhat longwinded, and author Train often takes a long time to get to his point. The stories often revolve around the art of selecting the right jury (Mr. Tutt inevitably proves more adept at this than do his exasperated District Attorney opponents). But, while selecting the right jury is a major factor in the outcome of criminal trials, either 100 years ago or today, Train’s discussion of this point often goes on way too long in these stories, reducing the impact of his endings, in which readers learn just what motivated the jury, to a footnote. Indeed, I only found a couple of the stories to have really good endings.
Surprisingly, three out of these seven stories involve con artistry of one sort or another, as the law firm’s clients turn out to be either con artists themselves or the victims of such. Train proves himself a bit of an old-style David Mamet in telling these tales, in which much of the enjoyment involves seeing just how the con plays out. The best story in the book, “Samuel and Delilah,” finds the younger Tutt rallying to the defense of a young woman who has been treated rather harshly by a would-be suitor who proved much less upright than he first led her to believe. Another good story is “The Dog Andrew,” a tale that revolves around the law of the time regarding dog bites and the liability of the dog owner for the canine’s use of its canines on another person.
While Train, at his best, can be clever and charming, his writing also reflects the racial (and to certain extent class) profiling of his era. Many of the characters are pretty much defined by their ethnicity, and their personalities are stereotypes of the popular perceptions of the era. They talk with exaggerated accents, usually for humorous effect, and Train often uses derogatory slang expressions in a casual manner, intended merely to convey the character’s ethnicity, much as if I described Mr. Tutt as a white lawyer. While I’m sure that audiences of Train’s day found nothing exceptional about this, modern readers should be forewarned.
The worst story in this regard is “Mock Hen and Mock Turtle,” in which members of a Chinese tong execute a rival in an honor killing, and the tong elders hire Mr. Tutt to defend the killer. The story eventually boils down to just what type of white jurors are willing (or unable to avoid) to decide a squabble between two groups of Chinese gangsters and whose story they are more likely to believe. All the while, the various Chinese characters act and talk like they came off the set of a Charlie Chan movie of the 1930’s.
Readers’ enjoyment of Tutt and Mr. Tutt will probably depend on their tolerance and appreciation for Train’s style of writing. Those who enjoy courtroom theatrics, thrillers, or old-fashioned whodunits will be disappointed, and those who don’t care for Train’s racial descriptions (which were probably non-exceptional for the era) may well be highly offended . On the other hand, those who like Train’s folksy style and ruminations on the state of the law in that era will find them quaint but enjoyable. I found his best stories (the con artist ones) entertaining enough to give the book a marginal recommendation. However, the case of Tutt and Mr. Tutt is very much a case of “your mileage may vary.”
I ordered Tutt and Mr. Tutt because our family is staying at his house in Bar Harbor this summer. Good writer. Dated, of course, with ethnic and racial comments. America has not been kind to immigrants. Clearly, what's new... However, that aside, the stories were good and Mr. Tutt does seem to have a good heart.
He fell victim to one of the three classic blunders, the first of which is never get involved in a land war in asia. But only slightly less well known is this: Never overdo it when you lean on racial and ethnic stereotypes for humor.
Seven short stories involving attorneys Tutt & Tutt. Surprisingly, they are not related. Every story has a little twist, so made the reading enjoyable.
These stories are hilarious! Warning though - they were first published in 1920 when racist and stereotypical descriptions were ok. In this case it is the Chinese being described.
Early Bird Books puts out a daily email to promote various discounted ebooks, always including a link to a free ebook of an old work that's fallen into public domain. Sometimes these look interesting and I'll give them a shot.
TUTT AND MR. TUTT, originally published in 1919, was one such. Arthur C. Train was a lawyer who wrote on the side in the first half of the 20th century. His "Tutt and Mr. Tutt" stories, about two NYC lawyers, ran for years in the Saturday Evening Post, were collected into a number of volumes, and were apparently immensely popular in their time. Nearly a century later, I'd never heard of Train or his characters.
So...
First, there's some racist language in the stories that might be off-putting, with references to "Chinks" and "niggers". I'll give that a pass for work written a century ago (historical mores, blah blah blah), but it was still jarring to encounter.
Second, the two Tutts don't just defend innocent people from being wrongly convicted, they work to see guilty people set free. Murderers both hot-blooded and cold-blooded end up walking the streets again. When one of the Tutts is maneuvered into a position where he's threatened with blackmail, he ends up paying off the blackmailer; the blackmailer strolls off with no consequences and I was left sitting there with my jaw dropped, thinking "No! That's not how you end a story!".
I worked in several law offices for about a year decades ago, so I recognize that "dubious morality" is an occupational hazard of the legal profession. But I don't want to see that in the fiction I read. I want protagonists, even if flawed, to be people I can respect or at least understand. ("Hey, Bruce, what about all those Parker crime novels by Westlake you enjoy so much? Whaddabout those, huh, huh?" "Shut up.")
I couldn't like or enjoy either Tutt. I found their behavior and standards off-putting and repellent. I read the first three of the seven stories in this collection; by that point I just didn't want to spend any more time in the characters' company.
Third and finally... wow, the writing style here is very heavily in a "Tell, Don't Show" manner, with long, long sentences and passages about the characters, about what's happening in the story, rather than showing by dialogue and action.
So, for me at least, this once-popular book wasn't able to inspire any appeal or a desire to read past the first few stories. In the near-century since its publication, society has changed, writing styles have changed, and I'm clearly not the same as the people who read and enjoyed these stories when they first appeared. C'est la litterature.
From Samuel & Delilah - Mr. Tutt - "I mean to imply that no man is too wise to be made a fool of by some woman." Tutt - "That every Samson has his Delilah?" Mr. Tutt - "If you want to put it that way - yes." ... Tutt - "Well, anyhow, I'm no Samson," protested Tutt. "And I haven't met anyone that looked like a Delilah. I guess after the procession of adventuresses that have trailed through this office in the last twenty years I'm reasonably safe." Mr. Tutt - "No man is safe," meditated Mr. Tutt. "For the reason that no man knows the power of expansion of his heart. He thinks it's reached its limit - and then he finds to his horror or his delight that it hasn't. To put it another way, a man's capacity to love may be likened to a thermometer. At twenty-five or thirty, he meets some young person, falls in love with her, thinks his amatory thermometer has reached the boiling point and accordingly marries her. In point of fact, it hasn't - it's only marking summer heat - hasn't even registered the temperature of the blood. Well, he goes merrily on life's way and some fine day another lady breezes by, and this safe and sane citizen, who supposes his capacity for affection was reached in early youth, suddenly discovers to his amazement that his mercury is on the jump and presently that his old thermometer has blown its top off."
An anthology of short stories about the inestimable Ephraim Tutt and his partner Tutt. These two lawyers win every case put before them despite what might be considered an open-and-shut case for the prosecution. Using their wits and the law, even obscure law, they get a man off for murder, protect citizens from unscrupulous businessmen, and more.
Originally published in 1920, the language is of such complexity and even somewhat archaic to the present that this reader was glad that it was read in an e-book format so that the complex words could be looked up.
quote from the last case: "You don't need to tell me what this plan of reorganization is; because they wouldn't propose one unless it was going to benefit them in some way, and the only way it can be made to benefit them is at the expense of the other stockholders." (p. 161)
This book's premiss is very different from current lawyering books. The lawyer is a bit sleazy but for a good outcome. It isn't a murder mystery. The suspense is in seeing if the lawyer accomplishes what he sets out to do. I enjoy reading books from the twenties because my house is from the twenties. The characters act very proper - no sex scenes.