Somewhere in the Sacramento Valley With the rugged foot hills near Lies a ranch with its untold beauty A spot to my heart most dear,
In the spring of nineteen and eight We Arrived in Alamo Town To seek health and fortune On the landscape bare and brown
Early one morning in May, We pitched our tent-like house Our amidst the sage brush Snug as a little mouse;
The coyotes that night were our visitors They howled on every side As to my part I rather enjoyed it, Beginning my new life in the wilds, Next morn the sun rays were stealing Into the tent as we rose; From our cots to make hasty breakfast We wanted to go for a stroll,
The children were delighted With many strange things to see, Very much unlike, they had been use to Tho happy as happy could be;
Down by the irrigation ditch, They would often play in the sand; Building a sand house see; Need no tools but their little brown hands.
The boys set out to trapping It's fine sport there; Each eager to find what he had in his trap A coyote, bobcat, or bear.
We began to till the soil Which is very fertile indeed; And brought forth abundant crops, That gave us our many needs.
We planted out an orchard, In three years it began to bear; The Elberta peach and pear.
We sand a well with good success, Later we reared a house; On the little knoll beside the tent, We could not well do without.
I am sure the happiest days of my life, Were my tent days on the plains, Ah! I wish, I often wish, I could live them over again.
By Mattie Lou Winesett