[From the Dublin Penny Journal, Vol. 1, No. 6, August 4, 1832]
When Foote was acting in Dublin, he introduced into one of his pieces, called the Orators, the character of George Faulkner, the celebrated printer, whose manners and dress he so closely imitated, that the poor fellow could not appear in public, without meeting with the scoffs and jeers of the very boys in the streets. Enraged at the ridicule thus brought upon him, Faulkner one evening treated to the seat of the gods all the devils of the printing office, for the express purpose of their hissing and hooting Foote off the stage. Faulkner placed himself in the pit to enjoy the actor's degradation; but when the objectionable scene came on, the unfortunate printer was excessively chagrined to find, that so far from a groan or a hiss being heard, his gallery friends partook of the comical laugh. The next morning he arrraigned his inky conclave, inveighed against them for having neglected his injunctions, and on demanding some reason for their treachery, was lacerated ten times deeper by the simplicity of their answer: "Arrah, master," said the spokesman, "do not be after tipping us your blarney, do you think we did not know you? Sure 'twas your own sweet self that was on the stage, and shower light upon us, if we go to the play-house to hiss our worthy master."
Failing in this experiment, Faulkner commenced an action against Foote, and got a verdict of damages to the amount of three hundred pounds. This drove Foote back to England, where he resumed his mimicry, and humorously took off the lawyers on his trial, and the judges who had condemned him.