I had never seen such a performance! While you admired Coghlan's technique and art, Thorne gave you no time to think of anything—he was so real, so convincing. He drowned all judgment with the tears his acting started. You simply sobbed your heart out.

In a few weeks Thorne went to New York and amazed the public. In a short time Coghlan's name headed the road company and Thorne was snugly housed again at the Union Square Theatre where he remained a Czar for many years, until John Stetson engaged him to star in "Monte Cristo," a play made famous by the French actor, Charles Fechter. He opened at Booth's Theatre to a $3,500 house. The streets were packed for blocks by a swaying, eager multitude ready to pay homage to an actor who for twenty years had been their idol and whose salary was never more than $150 a week at any time.

He was very ill on the opening night—in fact he was dying on the stage before his beloved public, but no one knew it. The fact that his performance was most unsatisfactory gave no one an inkling of the truth. He was driven home after the play, and never appeared again, dying in a few weeks. Just as power was within his grasp, they rang the curtain down and poor Thorne's soul passed into the great beyond.

All of the Thorne family were possessed of a wonderful sense of humor. I, as I have said, knew them all—Charles, William and Edwin and their father and mother. Many happy evenings have I passed with this delightful family. They were truly, to quote from Dumas' "Three Guardsmen," "One for all, and all for one!" Charles had a much keener sense of the ridiculous than the others and he would exercise it even in a serious scene, if for no other reason than to break up the players.

One day at the old Niblo's Garden in New York, Charlie came to play a two weeks' starring engagement for his father who was at that time the lessee of the theatre. I was a member of the company playing general utility. Business was very, very bad and the advent of Charles did not enhance the exchequer of the theatre. We were playing a Scotch drama, "Roderick Dhu." Charles and his father had a powerful scene, ending an act. The old gentleman spoke the tag, saying to Charlie, "If you are King James of Scotland, I am Roderick Dhu!" Before the curtain fell upon the line Charlie, who had bribed the prompter to delay its coming down on the direct cue, took out a large document and said, "Yes, Mr. Thorne, and your rent is due."

When the curtain fell the old man chased his son out of the theatre and in a fit of passion swore he would not allow the play to continue. Charles came back, apologized and the play proceeded.

Boucicault took him and Stuart Robson to London to play in "Led Astray." Charlie made a great hit and poor Rob a dire failure. Robson's failure Charlie took to heart as his love for Rob was unbounded. After about six weeks three gentlemen, the proprietors of the Drury Lane and Covent Garden theatres, called on Thorne and Robson at their chambers with a proposition to Thorne for a long engagement. He listened to their patronizing suggestions as to a consummation of the deal and, pointing to Rob, asked, "Is my pal included in this?" When told that their business was with him solely he cried, "Out upon ye for arrant knaves! I'll not play at Dreary's Lane nor at Covey's Garden either!" They thought he was mad and quickly withdrew.

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