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Francis Henry (1827-1893) http://tinyurl.com/FHenry

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Acres of Clams

From "The Old Settler's Song," 1877. Read Online

Reader: Kevin Hearle

For every miner who struck it rich during California's Gold Rush, many more went bust. And some of these erstwhile argonauts sought their fortune elsewhere.

As captured in this "Old Settlers' Song," Gold Rush disappointment eventually turns to acceptance—thanks to the discovery of a different kind of El Dorado.

"Two pages from the 1902 song booklet, "The Old Settler"—the earliest publication of text and tune together."
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I've wandered all over this country
Prospecting and digging for gold
I've tunnelled, hydraulicked and cradled
And I have been frequently sold

For one who gets riches by mining
Perceiving that hundreds grow poor
I made up my mind to try farming
The only pursuit that is sure

Rolling my grub in the 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 mid-winter
The ground was enveloped in fog
And covered all over with timber
Thick as the hair on the back of a dog

I looked at the prospects so gloomy
The tears trickled over my face
And I thought my troubles 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 climate
But poverty forced me to stay
Until I became an old settler
And nothing could drive me away

And now that I'm used to the country
I think that if man ever found
A place to live happy and easy
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 happy condition
Surrounded by acres of clams

The lyrics of "Acres of Clams" are attibuted to police court judge Francis Henry.