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Old Settler's Song or Acres of Clams 
Old Settler's Song or 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 
MC