[Editorial] a-plenty -> aplenty

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@@ -47,7 +47,7 @@
 			<p>Lonny sought this man out after dinner and told his story. The artist was an unhealthy man, kept alive by genius and indifference to life. He went with Lonny to the Capitol and stood there before the picture. The artist pulled his beard and looked unhappy.</p>
 			<p>“Should like to have your sentiments,” said Lonny, “just as they run out of the pen.”</p>
 			<p>“It’s the way they’ll come,” said the painter man. “I took three different kinds of medicine before dinner⁠—by the tablespoonful. The taste still lingers. I am primed for telling the truth. You want to know if the picture is, or if it isn’t?”</p>
-			<p>“Right,” said Lonny. “Is it wool or cotton? Should I paint some more or cut it out and ride herd a-plenty?”</p>
+			<p>“Right,” said Lonny. “Is it wool or cotton? Should I paint some more or cut it out and ride herd aplenty?”</p>
 			<p>“I heard a rumour during pie,” said the artist, “that the state is about to pay you two thousand dollars for this picture.”</p>
 			<p>“It’s passed the Senate,” said Lonny, “and the House rounds it up tomorrow.”</p>
 			<p>“That’s lucky,” said the pale man. “Do you carry a rabbit’s foot?”</p>

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@@ -17,7 +17,7 @@
 			<p>“Well, ef I must say it, Sam,” she drawled, “you look jest like one of them hayseeds in the picture papers, ’stead of a free and independent sheepman of the State o’ Texas.”</p>
 			<p>Sam climbed awkwardly into the saddle.</p>
 			<p>“You’re the one ought to be ’shamed to say so,” he replied hotly. “ ’Stead of ’tendin’ to a man’s clothes you’re al’ays setting around a-readin’ them billy-by-dam yaller-back novils.”</p>
-			<p>“Oh, shet up and ride along,” said <abbr>Mrs.</abbr> Webber, with a little jerk at the handles of her chair; “you always fussin’ ’bout my readin’. I do a-plenty; and I’ll read when I wanter. I live in the bresh here like a varmint, never seein’ nor hearin’ nothin’, and what other ’musement kin I have? Not in listenin’ to you talk, for it’s complain, complain, one day after another. Oh, go on, Sam, and leave me in peace.”</p>
+			<p>“Oh, shet up and ride along,” said <abbr>Mrs.</abbr> Webber, with a little jerk at the handles of her chair; “you always fussin’ ’bout my readin’. I do aplenty; and I’ll read when I wanter. I live in the bresh here like a varmint, never seein’ nor hearin’ nothin’, and what other ’musement kin I have? Not in listenin’ to you talk, for it’s complain, complain, one day after another. Oh, go on, Sam, and leave me in peace.”</p>
 			<p>Sam gave his pony a squeeze with his knees and “shoved” down the wagon trail that connected his ranch with the old, open Government road. It was eight o’clock, and already beginning to be very warm. He should have started three hours earlier. Chapman ranch was only eighteen miles away, but there was a road for only three miles of the distance. He had ridden over there once with one of the Half-Moon cowpunchers, and he had the direction well-defined in his mind.</p>
 			<p>Sam turned off the old Government road at the split mesquite, and struck down the arroyo of the Quintanilla. Here was a narrow stretch of smiling valley, upholstered with a rich mat of green, curly mesquite grass; and Mexico consumed those few miles quickly with his long, easy lope. Again, upon reaching Wild Duck Waterhole, must he abandon well-defined ways. He turned now to his right up a little hill, pebble-covered, upon which grew only the tenacious and thorny prickly pear and chaparral. At the summit of this he paused to take his last general view of the landscape for, from now on, he must wind through brakes and thickets of chaparral, pear, and mesquite, for the most part seeing scarcely farther than twenty yards in any direction, choosing his way by the prairie-dweller’s instinct, guided only by an occasional glimpse of a far distant hilltop, a peculiarly shaped knot of trees, or the position of the sun.</p>
 			<p>Sam rode down the sloping hill and plunged into the great pear flat that lies between the Quintanilla and the Piedra.</p>