One of the greatest of pleasures to me
Whenever I happen to be near the sea,
Is clam digging to go upon the broad beach
And get all the clams that my shovel can reach.
Along Puget Sound I was clamming one day,
When a poor Indian squaw and child came my way.
The mother was digging up clams with her toes,
And was dressed very poorly in very few clothes.
But her face seemed so kind as she smiled at her child,
A wee Indian warrior, who seemed very wild.