Lay of the Old Settler
Acres of Clams
Francis Henry, ca. 1874, alt.
Written in the 1870s by a police court judge, this song achieved prominence decades later through radio-show singer Ivar Haglund, who made it the theme song of Acres of Clams, his flagship seafood restaurant on the Seattle Waterfront's Pier 54. My eight-verse Esperanto translation lacks the "jumping-off place" stanza. The tune is "Old Rosin, the Beau", of Irish provenance but long naturalized in the US. (It's often called "Rosin the Bow", but I think that's the wrong end of the pun.)
I've traveled all over this country
Prospecting and digging for gold;
I've tunneled, hydraulicked and cradled,
And I have been frequently sold —
And I have been frequently so-o-old,
And I have been frequently sold:
I've tunneled, hydraulicked and cradled,
And I have been frequently sold!
For one who gained riches by mining,
Perceiving that hundreds grew poor,
I made up my mind to try farming,
The only pursuit that was sure —
The only pursuit that was su-u-ure,
The only pursuit that was sure,
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
And started one morning to shank it
For the country they call Puget Sound —
For the country they call Puget Sou-ou-ound,
For the country they call Puget Sound,
I started one morning to shank it
For the country they call Puget Sound.
Arriving flat broke in midwinter,
I found the land shrouded in fog
And covered all over with timber
Thick as hairs on the back of a dog —
Thick as hairs on the back of a do-o-og,
Thick as hairs on the back of a dog —
And covered all over with timber
Thick as hairs 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!
To the end of the jumping-off pla-a-ace,
To the end of the jumping-off place:
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 six years I chopped and I labored,
But I never got down to the soil —
But I never got down to the soi-oi-oil,
I never got down to the soil:
For six years I chopped and I labored,
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!
Then nothing could drive me away-ay-ay,
Then nothing could drive me away!
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 —
That Eden is on Puget Sou-ou-ound,
That Eden is on Puget Sound —
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 —
Surrounded by acres of cla-a-ams,
Surrounded by acres of clams,
As I think of my happy condition,
Surrounded by acres of clams!
