Add language semantics

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@@ -31,7 +31,7 @@
 			<p>“So long, Fritzy,” said old man Ballinger. “You got a nice cool night for your drive.”</p>
 			<p>Up the road went the little black mules at their steady trot, while Fritz thundered at them occasional words of endearment and cheer.</p>
 			<p>These fancies occupied the mind of the mail-carrier until he reached the big post oak forest, eight miles from Ballinger’s. Here his ruminations were scattered by the sudden flash and report of pistols and a whooping as if from a whole tribe of Indians. A band of galloping centaurs closed in around the mail wagon. One of them leaned over the front wheel, covered the driver with his revolver, and ordered him to stop. Others caught at the bridles of Donder and Blitzen.</p>
-			<p>“Donnerwetter!” shouted Fritz, with all his tremendous voice⁠—“<i xml:lang="de">wass ist</i>? Release your hands from dose mules. Ve vas der United States mail!”</p>
+			<p>“Donnerwetter!” shouted Fritz, with all his tremendous voice⁠—“<i xml:lang="de">wass ist?</i> Release your hands from dose mules. Ve vas der United States mail!”</p>
 			<p>“Hurry up, Dutch!” drawled a melancholy voice. “Don’t you know when you’re in a stickup? Reverse your mules and climb out of the cart.”</p>
 			<p>It is due to the breadth of Hondo Bill’s demerit and the largeness of his achievements to state that the holding up of the Fredericksburg mail was not perpetrated by way of an exploit. As the lion while in the pursuit of prey commensurate to his prowess might set a frivolous foot upon a casual rabbit in his path, so Hondo Bill and his gang had swooped sportively upon the pacific transport of Meinherr Fritz.</p>
 			<p>The real work of their sinister night ride was over. Fritz and his mail bag and his mules came as gentle relaxation, grateful after the arduous duties of their profession. Twenty miles to the southeast stood a train with a killed engine, hysterical passengers and a looted express and mail car. That represented the serious occupation of Hondo Bill and his gang. With a fairly rich prize of currency and silver the robbers were making a wide detour to the west through the less populous country, intending to seek safety in Mexico by means of some fordable spot on the Rio Grande. The booty from the train had melted the desperate bushrangers to jovial and happy skylarkers.</p>

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@@ -18,7 +18,7 @@
 			<p>“Oh, I don’t know!” said I, vernacularly.</p>
 			<p>“Have you ever heard of Oratama?” he asked.</p>
 			<p>“Possibly,” I answered. “I seem to recall a toe dancer⁠—or a suburban addition⁠—or was it a perfume?⁠—of some such name.”</p>
-			<p>“It is a town,” said Judson Tate, “on the coast of a foreign country of which you know nothing and could understand less. It is a country governed by a dictator and controlled by revolutions and insubordination. It was there that a great life-drama was played, with Judson Tate, the homeliest man in America, and Fergus McMahan, the handsomest adventurer in history or fiction, and Señorita Anabela Zamora, the beautiful daughter of the alcalde of Oratama, as chief actors. And, another thing⁠—nowhere else on the globe except in the department of Trienta y tres in Uruguay does the <i xml:lang="es">chuchula</i> plant grow. The products of the country I speak of are valuable woods, dyestuffs, gold, rubber, ivory, and cocoa.”</p>
+			<p>“It is a town,” said Judson Tate, “on the coast of a foreign country of which you know nothing and could understand less. It is a country governed by a dictator and controlled by revolutions and insubordination. It was there that a great life-drama was played, with Judson Tate, the homeliest man in America, and Fergus McMahan, the handsomest adventurer in history or fiction, and Señorita Anabela Zamora, the beautiful daughter of the alcalde of Oratama, as chief actors. And, another thing⁠—nowhere else on the globe except in the department of <i xml:lang="es">Trienta y tres</i> in Uruguay does the <i xml:lang="es">chuchula</i> plant grow. The products of the country I speak of are valuable woods, dyestuffs, gold, rubber, ivory, and cocoa.”</p>
 			<p>“I was not aware,” said I, “that South America produced any ivory.”</p>
 			<p>“There you are twice mistaken,” said Judson Tate, distributing the words over at least an octave of his wonderful voice. “I did not say that the country I spoke of was in South America⁠—I must be careful, my dear man; I have been in politics there, you know. But, even so⁠—I have played chess against its president with a set carved from the nasal bones of the tapir⁠—one of our native specimens of the order of <i xml:lang="la">perissodactyle ungulates</i> inhabiting the Cordilleras⁠—which was as pretty ivory as you would care to see.</p>
 			<p>“But is was of romance and adventure and the ways of women that was I going to tell you, and not of zoölogical animals.</p>