OR, THE WORLD HAS CHANGED. 191 



PROHIBITION VICTORY IN ATLANTA, GA. 



The battle is o'er, the victory won, 

 Prohibition has saved, saved her son ; 

 The blue ribbon triumphs over the red, 

 The goggle-eye monster, drink, is dead. 



The day of Jubilee has surely come. 

 Prohibition has slain, buried rum; 

 Great rejoicing throughout the camp, 

 Jined with the saint is the Jug-a-wamp. 



Dear Atlanta, for thee there is a boom, 

 Blessings for which there can't be room ; 

 Shake hands, victors, shake hands, shake. 

 We've fought the battle, won the stake. 



One Boniface, he sot on the fence. 

 Reckon, bekase he'd no better sense; 

 And he didn't take to narry side. 

 So sot on the fence, sot thar, astride. 



He heard Prohibition's vengeful cry, 

 See'd the sparks come outen her eye ; 

 See'd her light onto the crouching brute, 

 But he sot thar still, sot thar mute. 



Sot thar till Betsey kilt the bar. 

 Watched through all the howlin war ; 

 Saw Prohibition Betsey whip the fight, 

 This Betsey gal — oh ! wan't she a sight? 



She fit and prayed, and prayed aud fit. 

 And, golly, didn't she make old Anti git? 



