[Editorial] pedler -> peddler

src/epub/text/the-door-of-unrest.xhtml

@@ -76,7 +76,7 @@
 			<p>“What is his history?” I inquired.</p>
 			<p>“Whiskey,” epitomized Judge Hoover. “That explains him.”</p>
 			<p>I was silent, but I did not accept the explanation. And so, when I had the chance, I asked old man Sellers, who browsed daily on my exchanges.</p>
-			<p>“Mike O’Bader,” said he, “was makin’ shoes in Montopolis when I come here goin’ on fifteen year ago. I guess whiskey’s his trouble. Once a month he gets off the track, and stays so a week. He’s got a rigmarole somethin’ about his bein’ a Jew pedler that he tells ev’rybody. Nobody won’t listen to him any more. When he’s sober he ain’t sich a fool⁠—he’s got a sight of books in the back room of his shop that he reads. I guess you can lay all his trouble to whiskey.”</p>
+			<p>“Mike O’Bader,” said he, “was makin’ shoes in Montopolis when I come here goin’ on fifteen year ago. I guess whiskey’s his trouble. Once a month he gets off the track, and stays so a week. He’s got a rigmarole somethin’ about his bein’ a Jew peddler that he tells ev’rybody. Nobody won’t listen to him any more. When he’s sober he ain’t sich a fool⁠—he’s got a sight of books in the back room of his shop that he reads. I guess you can lay all his trouble to whiskey.”</p>
 			<p>But again I would not. Not yet was my Wandering Jew rightly construed for me. I trust that women may not be allowed a title to all the curiosity in the world. So when Montopolis’s oldest inhabitant (some ninety score years younger than Michob Ader) dropped in to acquire promulgation in print, I siphoned his perpetual trickle of reminiscence in the direction of the uninterpreted maker of shoes.</p>
 			<p>Uncle Abner was the Complete History of Montopolis, bound in butternut.</p>
 			<p>“O’Bader,” he quavered, “come here in ’69. He was the first shoemaker in the place. Folks generally considers him crazy at times now. But he don’t harm nobody. I s’pose drinkin’ upset his mind⁠—yes, drinkin’ very likely done it. It’s a powerful bad thing, drinkin’. I’m an old, old man, sir, and I never see no good in drinkin’.”</p>