From a newspaper circa 1909:
A dollar gives you confidence,
Five makes you walk on air,
A ten-spot lets you face the world
Without a thought of care.
With fifty large ones right away
You feel your own true worth,
But get a hundred-dollar bill —
Ah, well you own the earth.
Just let a fellow walk about
Without a lonely dime
He feels as though for sure he must
Be guilty of a crime.
And when a copper floats around
He doesn’t want to stay,
Before the shadow of the blue
He quickly fades away.
Without a plentitude of dough
A fellow isn’t one, two, three.
In fact, he only reaches up
Just half way to a cricket’s knee.