The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1884-02-14
an ACTORS MISTAKE.
How Charlie Thorne and Dr. Joyce
Were Thrashed by Plucky
English Officer.
boston letter.

The departure of Dr. Joyce author of
"Dedre," "Blanid," and other novels, for
Europe, calls up various anecdotes of his jolly
days. He is now terribly broken in health,
the wreck of what he was, and it is probable
that his ruined health is largely due to do
nestle troubles DR.. Joyce had a wide ac-
quaintance of lively people, and among his
numerous friends was the late Charlie
Thorne, the actor. When Thorne was in
town the two were frequently together, and
on one notable occasion they were in the bar
room of the Revere house, when the 'com-
mendabe spirits of wine did somewhat
arouse the nobler emotions and loosen the
tongue" DR.. Joyce was moved to be elo-
quent upon the wrongs of Ireland, which
just then lay heavy upon his SOUL Thorne
offered fresh sympathy with every glass,
and the two soon worked each other into
most hilarious state Of virtuous and indignant
patriotism. "Why, in this very harbor,"
cried the doctor at length, Gin the harbor Of
Boston, where the British tea was thrown
overheard is an English ship at this minute;
and British officers are staying in this very
housed"
Thorne opened his mouth to swear it was
burning shame, when with patness sugges-
tive of old comedy, the door swung open and
in walked two strangers. They were in citi-
zen's dress, but it was impossible to mistake
their markedly English appearance and mill
tary air. OF one nothing further is recorded
than that he was tall and slender; the other
was short aud rather understood, with light,
dudish whiskers, single eye-glass screwed
under his right eyebrow, tiny cane, and
dandified appearance generally The pair
walked quietly to the bar and gave their
nr.ln Nyhi1n fha fyun nlaiv, If hn
wrongs of old Ireland" glared ferociously
at the daring Britishers who presumed to
venture into their very presence. The
strangers took no notice, and finding his
black glances of no effect, Thorne made a
theatrical stride towards the little dandified
newcomer Drink with me!n he demanded,
in the peculiarly offensive fashion Of
drunken bully who is determined to pick a
quarrel. II beg your pardon" the other re-
piled politely, but with a good deal of the
British drawl, "1-aw-am drinking with my
friend Some other-aw-time- should be
pleased m-aw-sure" "When l ask
man to drink with me-" Thorne clustered
tipsily, drawing himself back in fighting
attitude, damn him, he's got to drink
The little Britisher looked at his big op-
ponent quietly, then quietly struck out
straight from the shoulder The bully's head
lurched over into a dish of oysters which
graced the bar, and a sudden babble of cries
and oaths rent the air. The plucky little Of
fcer, without the slightest apparent emo
ton, turned to drink his ale, when DR..
Joyce, more excited over the wrongs of old
Ireland than ever, advanced TO the fray
flourishing his thick walking-stick like a
shillaah. The Englshman raised his cane
like flash, tapped the burly poet upon the
wrist wrenching the big stick away, and
flung it over his shoulder. Crash 1t went
into the midst of n big mirror The CON
fusion was by this time indescribable The
barkeeper summoned the proprietor; ThorIe
struck out again to be second time tipped
into the oysters; DR.. Joyce delivered a num-
Der of opinions far more emphatic than po-
etc: while all the bystanders lent a hand ut
increasing the general din.
In the midst of all this riot the little dandi-
fed Britisher was calm and uumoved rs n
clock. When the landlord appeared he said
politely, but with perfect nonchalance:
Sorry for the row-broke-aw-mirr
charge it in the bill He finished his ale,
paid his scot, and ignoring the continued bah
bile, the threats of Thorne and DR.. Joyce's
protestations as utterly as if they did not ex-
list, he turned upon his heel and walked out
with his friend. Now, who in thunder
queried the landlord rs the door swung to be-
hind the retreating couple, was fool enough
to interfere with him, Do you know who it
is!' NO shouted the crowd, open mouthed,
"who is it!' why, that is Capt. -; he's
one of the crack athletes of the British navy"
THAT little cuss.' calculated Thorne and he
showed signs of setting back into the oyster
dish for third time. Louis James took
Thornes place on the stage until his bruises
could he hidden with paint, while as for DR..
Joyce he probably relieved his feelings in an
entirely new and remarkably spirited lyric
upon the wrongs of Ireland.