tory of
Civilisation [5]."

[FOOTNOTE 5: Henry Thomas Buckle (1821-1862) was a self-taught
historian. He planned a series of books to explain
the idea that history--especially the progress of
nations and peoples--followed laws similar to those
being described in the natural sciences. The first
volume of his _History of Civilization in England_,
published in 1857, was only an introduction to his
theme, but it made Buckle a celebrity. The second
volume appeared in 1861, but Buckle died the
following year without completing his series. The
two volumes were widely read during the decade or
two after his death. O. Henry read voraciously as
a child and would likely have been familiar with
the work.]

"That sounds self-indulgent and gratifying without vulgar
ostentation," says I; "and I don't see how money could be better
invested. Give me a cuckoo clock and a Sep Winner's Self-Instructor
for the Banjo [6], and I'll join you."

[FOOTNOTE 6: Septimus Winner (1827-1902), a gifted composer
(he wrote "Oh where, oh where has my little dog
gone . . ."), teacher, and performer was the author
of at least 200 books on how to play numerous
musical instruments.]

A week afterwards me and Mack hits this small town of Pina, about
thirty miles out from Denver, and finds an elegant two-room house that
just suits us. We deposited half-a-peck of money in the Pina bank and
shook hands with every one of the 340 citizens in the town. We brought
along the Chinaman and the cuckoo clock and Buckle and the Instructor
with us from Denver; and they made the cabin seem like home at once.

Never believe it when they tell you riches don't bring happiness. If
you could have seen old Mack sitting in his rocking-chair with his
blue-yarn sock feet up in the window and absorbing in that Buckle
stuff through his specs you'd have seen a picture of content that
would have made Rockefeller jealous. And I was learning to pick out
"Old Zip Coon" on the banjo, and the cuckoo was on time with his
remarks, and Ah Sing was messing up the atmosphere with the handsomest
smell of ham and eggs that ever laid the honeysuckle in the shade.
When it got too dar