Old Settler's Song

(Acres of Clams)



I've traveled all over this country

Prospecting and digging for gold

I've tunneled, hydraulicked and cradled

And I have been frequently sold



For each man who got rich by mining

Perceiving that hundreds grew poor

I made up my mind to try farming

The only pursuit that was sure



So, rolling my grub in my blanket

I left all my tools on the ground

I started one morning to shank it

For the country they call Puget Sound



Arriving flat broke in midwinter

I found it enveloped in fog

And covered all over with timber

Thick as hair on the back of a dog



When I looked on the prospects so gloomy

The tears trickled over my face

And I thought that my travels had brought me

To the end of the jumping-off place



I staked me a claim in the forest

And sat myself down to hard toil

For two years I chopped and I struggled

But I never got down to the soil



I tried to get out of the country

But poverty forced me to stay

Until I became an old settler

Then nothing could drive me away



And now that I'm used to the climate

I think that if a man ever found

A place to live easy and happy

That Eden is on Puget Sound



No longer the slave of ambition

I laugh at the world and its shams

As I think of my pleasant condition

Surrounded by acres of clams



@pioneer

filename[ OLDSETLR

play.exe ROSINBOW

MC

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