OR, THE WORLD HAS CHANGEr). 183 



First to sling Atlanta's lightning, 



'Twas right here I made the start ; 

 Then but a little shabby hamlet, 



And now this great business mart. 



The town then seemed a small potatoe, 



A sort of grass colt over done, 

 And so slow to grow any bigger, 



As to outcome there seemed none. 



And ever since that's been the talk. 



Folks said she'd never fill her gown, 

 But she's kept a growing all the same. 



Till the old dudds can't hold the town. 



She's bound to be a corsf^t burster — 



Can't tell what she's going to be ; 

 Of all towns in the Sunny South, 



She's bound to be the grand Cit-tee. 



But I got tired of the cracker girl. 



And longed to see the far off west ; 

 Now for California gold mines, 



There next determined to invest. 



So with my friend, J. W. Rucker, 



We bade the little town adieu ; 

 Agreed to try the world together, 



Those auriferous fields we'd view. 



We passed within the golden gate, 



But it cost us many a quarter ; 

 Found that gold did not grow on trees, 



Had to be dug in mud and water. 



Sure we took in those golden fields, 

 Didn't pan out as we expected ; 



