Geyser Bob's Yellowstone Park History Service

Furnish Imaginary Adventures for
“Larry’s Tenderfoot Guests

Newspaper Article Nov. 9, 1898;
Colorado Transcript

Among the stories which Horace C. Du Val brought back from, his trip to the Pacific coast was one about "Larry," the proprietor of the luncheon station at Norris, in the Yellowstone Park, which everybody will appreciate who knows the witty Irishman, and few people have made the trip in tie last few years to whom he is unknown. "The park is full of bears, cinnamon and silver tips," said Mr. Du Val, "and the after-dinner hour at the hotels is always spent by the guests in watching the big clumsy brutes come lumbering out of the woods to feed at the refuse heaps. Larry's is only a luncheon station, a big tent, at which tourists stop in the middle of their day's journey for rest and refreshment. All Larry's supplies come from the hotels, and one day, a short time before our visit, the luncheon hour had almost arrived, and the bread wagon from the hotel had not made its appearance. There was not a slice of bread in the tent. Larry is proud of the reputation of his table; something has to be done, and done at once. Already he hears the rumbling of the wheels and the hoofbeats of the horses that tell him that his guests are at hand. An inspiration comes to him. He hastily summons his entire force, waiters, cooks, scullions, and all and imparts a few words of instructions. As the coaches draw up at the front of the tent out dashes Larry at the other end, shouting at the top of his lungs, out comes the table and kitchen force at his heels, waving tablecloths, napkins, anything at hand, and scattering in all directions. “There he goes!” yells Larry. “Head him off, kill the murtherin’ beast! O, the thafe of the world. There he is behind the corn, now we’ll run him down by the fence!” and away they all go dashing about in all directions, the amazed guests still sitting in the coaches and wondering what it is all about. One by one Larry’s people return. Larry at their head – hot, crestfallen. “Och, whatever shall I do,” says Larry, “the thievin’ devils; sorra crumb of bread, barrin’ crackers, have I got in the place, the brutes have stolen the whole of it.” The guests assemble around him with words of comfort, but it is long before Larry will be pacified. He’ll have the life of the whole tribe, whether the government protects them or not. Sure, how can he set a decent table if the black marauders steal it all? Little by little the guests calm him down. They “like crackers,” they wouldn’t “eat any bread if they had it.” Larry had gained his point, and material had been furnished for an adventure of no ordinary kind, and many members of the party will doubtless entertain their friends with the story of how the bears stole their bread at Larry’s.