Nov. i, 1913- 
FOREST AND STREAM 
551 
A Trip to Yellowstone Park— I. 
I N the early part of the month of July, 1913. 
when the sun in Texas' was driving the 
thermometer up to 100 and more, I joined 
an excursion party for a trip to Yellowstone 
Park. Texas was dry, dusty and hot, and the 
thought of getting away to go anywhere was 
a source of much exhilaration, even before the 
dry. dust and heat were left behind. 
The route was over the Fort Worth & 
Denver to Colorado Springs, thence over the 
Denver & Rio‘ Grande to Salt Lake, finishing 
the trip to the western entrance to the Park 
over the Oregon Short Line. The excursion 
was known as the Southern Methodist Uni¬ 
versity under the direction of Mr. Frank Reedy, 
the bursar of said university, than whom, as a 
leader, no greater is found in the nation. A 
jollier crowd was never gotten together. There 
was not a dry minute from the time the crowd 
got together till they parted. There was al¬ 
ways something doing. “A flow of reason and 
a feast of soul,’’ was the normal state of the 
excursionists. Some lady of the party said 
that she had never heard as much wit and bril¬ 
liant repartee in her life. As Reedy expressed. 
By G. S. WYATT 
“The preachers of the crowd, forty-seven in 
number—the entire crowd numbered one hun¬ 
dred and thirty—unlimbered themselves, got 
down off of their stilts, and gave expression 
to the best humor in them.” There was never 
a more congenial party traveling the same way. 
If there was ever a jar at any moment this 
writer failed to hear it, and his ear was never 
far away from the crowd. 
Our first stop of any importance after leav¬ 
ing Texas was at the beautiful city of Colorado 
Springs, which place we reached just one hour 
before we got there. Let him figure that out 
who can, for it is the unvarnished truth. We 
reached there somewhere about daylight. Soon 
every one was up hustling to get something to 
eat, as breakfast was not served on the diner 
that morning. The first thing I heard on alight¬ 
ing from the Pullman was the cry of an enter¬ 
prising hotel clerk, shouting, “that breakfast, 
as a courtesy to the delegation from Texas, 
would be served for fifty cents.” As my wife 
had been dinging into my ears for the last 
twenty years or more the great value of bar¬ 
gain counters. I was caught immediately by the 
cry of the clerk, and hastened in to break my 
fast for fear I would be troubled to find room, 
but, to my surprise, I was about the only 
sucker that bit, and it was all that I could do 
to get the two or three whom I was supposed 
to be chaperoning to sit down and exhibit the 
common manners of polite women and men. 
I never did think it showed the right kind 
of grit to squall when you found that you had 
put your hand in the mouth of the lion. So, 
after all of our misgivings, winkings and blink- 
ings, we were served a very respectable meal. 
As soon as we had finished our morning repast 
—with emphasis on the “re”—we made our way 
in much haste to the Antlers Hotel (the most 
magnificent hostelry in the city), taking seats 
in a very conspicuous place, and using with 
much show our toothpicks, to wait for the auto¬ 
mobiles which were to convey us to Crystal 
Park and back. It was a lovely and most de¬ 
lightful drive, till we passed the third gate and 
began to ascend the mountain. The road runs 
in loops along the mountainsides with the left 
side of the car oftentimes swinging out over 
canons anywhere from 100 to 500 feet deep. 
CHRISTMAS IN YELLOWSTONE. 
