A Clam-Bake On The Shore (This anonymous ode to Keppoch memories was printed in the Guardian of September 17, 1942. It was there said to have been "written many, many years ago, in the good old days when the S.S. Princess ran on the Charlottetown-Pictou route, and is published by the request of one of the residents of Keppoch of those days.") The heather is on fire and the news is in the air, You can hear it in the ocean's breakers' roar; And the people of fair Keppoch are gathering far and near For there's going to be a clam-bake on the shore. In the morning bright and early when the dew was on the grass And all nature had thrown open wide the door; You could see the birds a-winging and hear them all a-singing "There's going to be a clam-bake on the shore." The Robertsons and Carters, the Pooles and McLeods, With Patons, Reddins, Wellners galore; Mixed with Large and Nash and Farquharson, and every other mother's son, Are invited to the clam-bake on the shore. The clams in pristine juice and glory, without the aid of Grit or Tory Are provided for the people rich and poor, Who in spite of wind and weather will all sit down together, And enjoy the glorious clam-bake on the shore. The bonfire will be blazing, and the folks to sea be gazing, At the Princess as she looms in sight once more; As with story, song and laughter, with a dance to follow after, We shall linger round the clam-bake on the shore. Then here's to lovely Keppoch and to friends we hold so dear, May we meet again when this brief life is o'er; In the home beyond the River where we'll all sit down together And enjoy eternal clam-bakes on the shore.