[Editorial] valgame -> válgame

src/epub/text/on-behalf-of-the-management.xhtml

@@ -54,7 +54,7 @@
 			<p>“ ‘Ah, señor,’ says he, ‘that is the most fine of mans. Never I have seen one man so magnifico, so gr-r-rand, so conformable to make done things so swiftly by other mans. He shall make other mans do the acts and himself to order and regulate, until we arrive at seeing accomplishments of a suddenly. Oh, yes, señor. In my countree there is not such mans of so beegness, so good talk, so compliments, so strongness of sense and such. Ah, that Señor Galloway!’</p>
 			<p>“ ‘Yes,’ says I, ‘old Denver is the boy you want. He’s managed every kind of business here except filibustering, and he might as well complete the list.’</p>
 			<p>“Before the three days was up I decided to join Denver in his campaign. Denver got three months’ vacation from his hotel owners. For a week we lived in a room with the General, and got all the pointers about his country that we could interpret from the noises he made. When we got ready to start, Denver had a pocket full of memorandums, and letters from the General to his friends, and a list of names and addresses of loyal politicians who would help along the boom of the exiled popular idol. Besides these liabilities we carried assets to the amount of $20,000 in assorted United States currency. General Rompiro looked like a burnt effigy, but he was Br’er Fox himself when it came to the real science of politics.</p>
-			<p>“ ‘Here is moneys,’ says the General, ‘of a small amount. There is more with me⁠—moocho more. Plentee moneys shall you be supplied, Señor Galloway. More I shall send you at all times that you need. I shall desire to pay feefty⁠—one hundred thousand pesos, if necessario, to be elect. How no? Sacramento! If that I am president and do not make one meelion dolla in the one year you shall keek me on that side!⁠—<i xml:lang="es">valgame Dios!</i>’</p>
+			<p>“ ‘Here is moneys,’ says the General, ‘of a small amount. There is more with me⁠—moocho more. Plentee moneys shall you be supplied, Señor Galloway. More I shall send you at all times that you need. I shall desire to pay feefty⁠—one hundred thousand pesos, if necessario, to be elect. How no? Sacramento! If that I am president and do not make one meelion dolla in the one year you shall keek me on that side!⁠—<i xml:lang="es">válgame Dios!</i>’</p>
 			<p>“Denver got a Cuban cigar-maker to fix up a little cipher code with English and Spanish words, and gave the General a copy, so we could cable him bulletins about the election, or for more money, and then we were ready to start. General Rompiro escorted us to the steamer. On the pier he hugged Denver around the waist and sobbed. ‘Noble mans,’ says he, ‘General Rompiro propels you into his confidence and trust. Go, in the hands of the saints to do the work for your friend. <i xml:lang="es">Viva la libertad!</i>’</p>
 			<p>“ ‘Sure,’ says Denver. ‘And viva la liberality an’ la soaperino and hoch der land of the lotus and the vote us. Don’t worry, General. We’ll have you elected as sure as bananas grow upside down.’</p>
 			<p>“ ‘Make pictures on me,’ pleads the General⁠—‘make pictures on me for money as it is needful.’</p>

src/epub/text/the-admiral.xhtml

@@ -35,7 +35,7 @@
 			<p>Abruptly the admiral departed with his crew. For the next three days they were busy giving the <i epub:type="se:name.vessel.ship">Estrella del Noche</i> a new coat of white paint trimmed with blue. And then Felipe further adorned himself by fastening a handful of brilliant parrot’s plumes in his cap. Again he tramped with his faithful crew to the collector’s office and formally notified him that the sloop’s name had been changed to <i epub:type="se:name.vessel.ship">El Nacional</i>.</p>
 			<p>During the next few months the navy had its troubles. Even an admiral is perplexed to know what to do without any orders. But none came. Neither did any salaries. <i epub:type="se:name.vessel.ship">El Nacional</i> swung idly at anchor.</p>
 			<p>When Felipe’s little store of money was exhausted he went to the collector and raised the question of finances.</p>
-			<p>“Salaries!” exclaimed the collector, with hands raised; “<i xml:lang="es">Valgame Dios!</i> not one centavo of my own pay have I received for the last seven months. The pay of an admiral, do you ask? <i xml:lang="es">Quién sabe?</i> Should it be less than three thousand pesos? <i xml:lang="es">Mira!</i> you will see a revolution in this country very soon. A good sign of it is when the government calls all the time for pesos, pesos, pesos, and pays none out.”</p>
+			<p>“Salaries!” exclaimed the collector, with hands raised; “<i xml:lang="es">Válgame Dios!</i> not one centavo of my own pay have I received for the last seven months. The pay of an admiral, do you ask? <i xml:lang="es">Quién sabe?</i> Should it be less than three thousand pesos? <i xml:lang="es">Mira!</i> you will see a revolution in this country very soon. A good sign of it is when the government calls all the time for pesos, pesos, pesos, and pays none out.”</p>
 			<p>Felipe left the collector’s office with a look almost of content on his sombre face. A revolution would mean fighting, and then the government would need his services. It was rather humiliating to be an admiral without anything to do, and have a hungry crew at your heels begging for <i xml:lang="es">reales</i> to buy plantains and tobacco with.</p>
 			<p>When he returned to where his happy-go-lucky Caribs were waiting they sprang up and saluted, as he had drilled them to do.</p>
 			<p>“Come, muchachos,” said the admiral; “it seems that the government is poor. It has no money to give us. We will earn what we need to live upon. Thus will we serve our country. Soon”⁠—his heavy eyes almost lighted up⁠—“it may gladly call upon us for help.”</p>

src/epub/text/the-caballeros-way.xhtml

@@ -101,7 +101,7 @@
 			<p>The old ancestor, asleep on his blanket, was awakened by the shots. Listening further, he heard a great cry from some man in mortal distress or anguish, and rose up grumbling at the disturbing ways of moderns.</p>
 			<p>The tall, red ghost of a man burst into the jacal, reaching one hand, shaking like a tule reed, for the lantern hanging on its nail. The other spread a letter on the table.</p>
 			<p>“Look at this letter, Perez,” cried the man. “Who wrote it?”</p>
-			<p>“<i xml:lang="es">Ah, Dios!</i> it is Señor Sandridge,” mumbled the old man, approaching. “<i xml:lang="es">Pues, señor</i>, that letter was written by ‘<i xml:lang="es">El Chivato</i>,’ as he is called⁠—by the man of Tonia. They say he is a bad man; I do not know. While Tonia slept he wrote the letter and sent it by this old hand of mine to Domingo Sales to be brought to you. Is there anything wrong in the letter? I am very old; and I did not know. <i xml:lang="es">Valgame Dios!</i> it is a very foolish world; and there is nothing in the house to drink⁠—nothing to drink.”</p>
+			<p>“<i xml:lang="es">Ah, Dios!</i> it is Señor Sandridge,” mumbled the old man, approaching. “<i xml:lang="es">Pues, señor</i>, that letter was written by ‘<i xml:lang="es">El Chivato</i>,’ as he is called⁠—by the man of Tonia. They say he is a bad man; I do not know. While Tonia slept he wrote the letter and sent it by this old hand of mine to Domingo Sales to be brought to you. Is there anything wrong in the letter? I am very old; and I did not know. <i xml:lang="es">Válgame Dios!</i> it is a very foolish world; and there is nothing in the house to drink⁠—nothing to drink.”</p>
 			<p>Just then all that Sandridge could think of to do was to go outside and throw himself face downward in the dust by the side of his hummingbird, of whom not a feather fluttered. He was not a caballero by instinct, and he could not understand the niceties of revenge.</p>
 			<p>A mile away the rider who had ridden past the wagon-shed struck up a harsh, untuneful song, the words of which began:</p>
 			<blockquote epub:type="z3998:song">