Fixed minor errors

fixed <i>  tags, added epigraph, placed endnote links in correct places

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@@ -12,7 +12,7 @@
 			<span epub:type="subtitle">Sounds From A Distant “<abbr>C.</abbr>”</span>
 			</h2>
 			<blockquote>
-				<p>- … —.-.. -.</p>
+				<p>- … ⁠—.-.. -.<a href="endnotes.xhtml#note-2" id="noteref-2" epub:type="noteref">2</a></p>
 			</blockquote>
 			<p>Just a noise, that is all.</p>
 			<p>But a very significant noise to Miss Nathalie Rogers, or Nattie, as she was usually abbreviated; a noise that caused her to lay aside her book, and jump up hastily, exclaiming, with a gesture of impatience:⁠—</p>

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@@ -22,7 +22,7 @@
 			<p>“Why didn’t you say so? Where is your office?”</p>
 			<p>“I have none now,” the pencil answered, while Cyn, glancing across the room, wondered to see the two so studious, and unsuspiciously asked Quimby if he supposed they were practicing for a drum corps? After a few meaningless dots, the pencil went on,</p>
 			<p>“A little girl at B m was dreadfully sold one day!”</p>
-			<p>The album Nattie held fell from her hands as she stared petrified at her <i>vis-à-vis</i>, who kept his eyes on his book with the most innocent expression imaginable, one that even a Chinaman could not have equaled. Where could he have heard those words, once so familiar? A moment’s thought gave her the most probable key.</p>
+			<p>The album Nattie held fell from her hands as she stared petrified at her vis-à-vis, who kept his eyes on his book with the most innocent expression imaginable, one that even a Chinaman could not have equaled. Where could he have heard those words, once so familiar? A moment’s thought gave her the most probable key.</p>
 			<p>“You are in the main office of this city, and have heard me talking with ‘C’!” she wrote, as fast as the scissors would let her.</p>
 			<p>“No, to the first of your surmise,” came from the pencil, “and yes to the last.”</p>
 			<p>“What office were you in?” the scissors asked.</p>
@@ -65,7 +65,7 @@
 			<p>“And you will not snub me any more, will you?” he said, pleadingly; “because I never use bear’s grease or musk, and my hair isn’t red a bit!”</p>
 			<p>“I will try and make amends,” Nattie answered, shyly; adding, “I ought to have known there was some mistake. I never could reconcile that creature and⁠—and ‘C’!”</p>
 			<p>“Then I may flatter myself that I am an improvement?” asked <abbr>Mr.</abbr> Stanwood, merrily; at which Nattie murmured something about fishing for compliments, and Cyn replied gayly,</p>
-			<p>“Yes; because you have curly hair! You remember what I said on the wire, <i>via</i> Nat?”</p>
+			<p>“Yes; because you have curly hair! You remember what I said on the wire, via Nat?”</p>
 			<p>“Could I forget?” he replied, gallantly.</p>
 			<p>“And it isn’t a dream! You are ‘C’, the real ‘C,’ ” replied Cyn, pinching herself, and then seizing Nattie, who, from the suddenness of it all was yet in a semi-bewildered state⁠—there was not a bit of unhappiness in it, though⁠—waltzed ecstatically around the room, crying, “Oh! I am so glad! I am so glad!”</p>
 			<p>At this point Quimby, who, during the preceding explanation had listened with a face illustrating every variety of consternation and dismay, attracted attention to himself by an audible groan, observing which, he muttered something about his “wound”⁠—the word had a double meaning for him then, poor fellow!⁠—and rising, came forward, took his friend by the shoulder, and asked, solemnly,</p>
@@ -98,7 +98,7 @@
 			<p>Nattie murmured something about the time passing pleasanter when there was someone to talk with, and Cyn asked, curiously,</p>
 			<p>“Then you have left the dot and dash business, have you?”</p>
 			<p>“Oh, yes. It was merely temporary with me,” Clem replied; then seating himself on the sofa beside Nattie, and drawing a chair up for Cyn, between himself and Jo⁠—Quimby being at the other end of the room, a prey to his emotions⁠—Clem continued;</p>
-			<p>“The truth of the matter is simply this, my father, with a pigheadedness worthy of Eugene Wrayburn’s M. R. F. in ‘Our Mutual Friend,’ determined to make a doctor of me, not on account of any qualifications of mine, but for the simple reason that a doctor is a good thing to have in a family. But I, having an intense dislike to the smell of drugs, a repugnance to knowing anything more than absolutely necessary about the ‘ills that flesh is heir to,’ and decided objections to having the sleep of my future life disturbed, declined, and at the same time expressed a desire to go into the store with him, and become a merchant. Upon which my most immediate ancestor waxed wroth, called me, in plain, unvarnished words, a fool; and a pretty one I was to set myself up against his will! I, who couldn’t earn my salt without him to back me! Being of a contrary opinion myself, I determined to test my abilities in the salt line. I began,” looking at Nattie, merrily, “by salting you!”⁠—then explaining to Cyn, Jo, and the silent Quimby, “ ‘Salt’ is a term operators use, when one tries to send faster than the other can receive. I began my acquaintance with N by trying to ‘salt’ her. To go on with my narrative, I had learned to telegraph at college, where the boys had private wires from room to room, and being acquainted with one of the managers in our city, succeeded in obtaining that very undesirable office down there at <span epub:type="z3998:roman">X</span> n, where I remained until my stern parent relented, concluded to hire a doctor instead of making one, and offered me the control of a branch of the firm here in your city. And here I am!”</p>
+			<p>“The truth of the matter is simply this, my father, with a pigheadedness worthy of Eugene Wrayburn’s M. R. F. in ‘Our Mutual Friend,’ determined to make a doctor of me, not on account of any qualifications of mine, but for the simple reason that a doctor is a good thing to have in a family. But I, having an intense dislike to the smell of drugs, a repugnance to knowing anything more than absolutely necessary about the ‘ills that flesh is heir to,’ and decided objections to having the sleep of my future life disturbed, declined, and at the same time expressed a desire to go into the store with him, and become a merchant. Upon which my most immediate ancestor waxed wroth, called me, in plain, unvarnished words, a fool; and a pretty one I was to set myself up against his will! I, who couldn’t earn my salt without him to back me! Being of a contrary opinion myself, I determined to test my abilities in the salt line. I began,” looking at Nattie, merrily, “by salting you!”⁠—then explaining to Cyn, Jo, and the silent Quimby, “ ‘Salt’ is a term operators use, when one tries to send faster than the other can receive. I began my acquaintance with N by trying to ‘salt’ her. To go on with my narrative, I had learned to telegraph at college, where the boys had private wires from room to room, and being acquainted with one of the managers in our city, succeeded in obtaining that very undesirable office down there at X n, where I remained until my stern parent relented, concluded to hire a doctor instead of making one, and offered me the control of a branch of the firm here in your city. And here I am!”</p>
 			<p>“And isn’t it strange how you should have stumbled upon us, feast and all?” said Cyn, laughing.</p>
 			<p>Nattie was again disturbed by the plural pronoun, and also angry at herself for observing it.</p>
 			<p>“Isn’t it?” Clem answered merrily; “what a lucky fellow I am! You see, not being at all acquainted in the city, I hunted up my old college friend Quimby, who asked me to call on some lady friends of his, mentioning no names, which of course I was only too glad to do! Imagine my surprise and delight when I discovered who those friends were! But I don’t know as I should have dared to reveal mvself, having been so often snubbed,”⁠—With a roguish glance at Nattie⁠—“if that story had not been told and the mystery solved. Imagine my dismay, though, at being called an ‘odious creature,’ and the surprise with which I listened to my own description! So earnest were you, that I actually, for a moment, thought my hair must have turned red!” and he ran his fingers through his curly locks with a rueful face.</p>
@@ -123,10 +123,10 @@
 			<p>“Yes, that was my first inclination, but as you urged me so much, and as I find so many old friends here, I have concluded to accept your offer, my boy, so consider the matter settled,” replied Clem.</p>
 			<p>And in his own entire satisfaction and unconsciousness, Clem did not observe but what Quimby looked as happy as might be expected, at this intelligence.</p>
 			<p>“ ‘Oh, won’t we have a jolly time,” ’ sang Cyn, and Clem, Nattie and Jo⁠—but not Quimby⁠—took up the chorus.</p>
-			<p>And obtuse as he was, Quimby could not but observe that Nattie’s eyes were shining in a way he had never seen them shine before, that the ever-coming and going flush on her cheeks was very becoming, and that there was an expression in her face, when she looked at Clem, that face had never held for <em>him</em>. Nor could he fail to think, that the romantic commencement of the acquaintance of these two, even the episode of the musk-scented impostor all now enhanced the interest Nattie had once felt for the invisible “C” neither did he need a prophet to tell him that the two girls would sit up half the night, talking confidentially over this unexpected and happy <i>denouement</i>, or even that Nattie’s sleep would not be quite as sound as usual.</p>
+			<p>And obtuse as he was, Quimby could not but observe that Nattie’s eyes were shining in a way he had never seen them shine before, that the ever-coming and going flush on her cheeks was very becoming, and that there was an expression in her face, when she looked at Clem, that face had never held for <em>him</em>. Nor could he fail to think, that the romantic commencement of the acquaintance of these two, even the episode of the musk-scented impostor all now enhanced the interest Nattie had once felt for the invisible “C” neither did he need a prophet to tell him that the two girls would sit up half the night, talking confidentially over this unexpected and happy denouement, or even that Nattie’s sleep would not be quite as sound as usual.</p>
 			<p>Love, it is said, is blind. So, to some things, perhaps, it is, but never to a rival.</p>
 			<p>And when at last Clem tore himself away, with the remark,</p>
-			<p>“What a fortunate day this has been! Quimby, my dear boy, how can I thank you? I shall take possession of my half of your apartment at once, to be sure no one shall again usurp my place; until then, <i>au revoir</i>!” and, in parting, perceptibly held Nattie’s hand longer than was absolutely necessary, Quimby followed him with dejected mien, fully aware that of all the mistakes he had ever made he committed the worst, when he asked his old chum to call on some lady friends of his!</p>
+			<p>“What a fortunate day this has been! Quimby, my dear boy, how can I thank you? I shall take possession of my half of your apartment at once, to be sure no one shall again usurp my place; until then, au revoir!” and, in parting, perceptibly held Nattie’s hand longer than was absolutely necessary, Quimby followed him with dejected mien, fully aware that of all the mistakes he had ever made he committed the worst, when he asked his old chum to call on some lady friends of his!</p>
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@@ -85,7 +85,7 @@
 			<p>“No! I am very weak and foolish. The idea of my crying like a schoolgirl! I am only unhappy because⁠—because⁠—I am nobody!”</p>
 			<p>And this was all the information the sympathetic and perplexed Cyn could obtain.</p>
 			<p>Sitting that night on a low cricket before the fire with her dark hair unbound⁠—and it was fortunate for Jo’s peace of mind that he could not see her just then, because she was such an interesting “study!”⁠—Cyn thought it all over, and could not, as she told herself, make out what it was all about.</p>
-			<p>“I thought everything was going on so smoothly,” she mused, “and now here is what Clem himself would term a cross on the wire! and no one can find out where it is! Doesn’t she love him, I wonder? I should, if I was she! Does he love her? if he does not, he is no kind of a hero! Ah! I know what would test the matter! a crisis! Now, for instance, if the house would only get on fire, and Nat burn up⁠—that is, almost⁠—and Clem save her just in time⁠—that is the sort of thing that brings these heroes to terms in the dramas! but I suppose⁠—everything is so different in real life⁠—Clem would not wake up in time, and she would burn to a crisp⁠—or someone else would save her first⁠—Quimby, for instance, he is always doing something he ought not! no, I don’t think it would do to risk it! nevertheless, I am convinced that a crisis is what is essential to complete the circuit, telegraphically speaking, or in other words, to bring down the curtain on everybody, embracing everybody, with great <i>éclat!</i>”</p>
+			<p>“I thought everything was going on so smoothly,” she mused, “and now here is what Clem himself would term a cross on the wire! and no one can find out where it is! Doesn’t she love him, I wonder? I should, if I was she! Does he love her? if he does not, he is no kind of a hero! Ah! I know what would test the matter! a crisis! Now, for instance, if the house would only get on fire, and Nat burn up⁠—that is, almost⁠—and Clem save her just in time⁠—that is the sort of thing that brings these heroes to terms in the dramas! but I suppose⁠—everything is so different in real life⁠—Clem would not wake up in time, and she would burn to a crisp⁠—or someone else would save her first⁠—Quimby, for instance, he is always doing something he ought not! no, I don’t think it would do to risk it! nevertheless, I am convinced that a crisis is what is essential to complete the circuit, telegraphically speaking, or in other words, to bring down the curtain on everybody, embracing everybody, with great éclat!”</p>
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@@ -62,14 +62,14 @@
 			<p>At this Quimby scrambled to his feet with startling suddenness, and exclaiming hastily,</p>
 			<p>“I will⁠—I will write and tell you all⁠—<em>all!</em> I have an engagement now with a friend just around the corner!” he rushed from the room, and would have flown, but the pertinacious Celeste had followed, and just as he reached the outside hall, regardless of the publicity, flung herself around his neck, this time without bringing him to the ground.</p>
 			<p>“It is not necessary to write!” she cried. “Pray, do not take such a trifle so much to heart. Remember I am yours, and⁠—”</p>
-			<p>Another voice from the stairs just above the pair, interrupted her. It was the voice of Fishblate <i>père</i>, and it said,</p>
+			<p>Another voice from the stairs just above the pair, interrupted her. It was the voice of Fishblate père, and it said,</p>
 			<p>“Hugging! Marry her!”</p>
 			<p>“I⁠—I⁠—will!” wailed the now alarmed Quimby, as Celeste blushingly withdrew from her embrace of him. “I⁠—I will see you tomorrow if I⁠—if I live!” and striking his forehead with his hand, he burst away, bounded frantically down the stairs and fled, ejaculating,</p>
 			<p>“I knew it! I had a presentiment from my youth!”</p>
 			<p>“Excuse his eccentricity, Pa!” Celeste said. “He loves me <em>so</em> much, poor fellow!”</p>
 			<p>“Humph! Get enough of <em>that!</em>” he growled, with contempt.</p>
 			<p>“And he has a nice little property!” added Celeste, as they went up stairs.</p>
-			<p>“Property is the thing!” Fishblate <i>père</i> said, with undisguised plainness.</p>
+			<p>“Property is the thing!” Fishblate père said, with undisguised plainness.</p>
 			<p>Nattie emerged from her retreat on the hasty exit of Quimby and Celeste, so full of regret for the flight that had proved so disastrous to him, that the ludicrous part of the scene just enacted was forgotten.</p>
 			<p>“Poor Quimby!” she thought, remorsefully. “What a dreadful fix he is in! I hope he will get out of it; and I am so sorry for my share in it! How strange it would be if he should, as he once said, marry the wrong woman, after all!”</p>
 		</section>

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@@ -65,7 +65,7 @@
 			<p>“You may have my share, I can’t eat creatures I have seen squirm,” said Nattie.</p>
 			<p>“Ah, you fastidious young woman! what shall I ever do with you, if you are cast away on a desert island with me?” exclaimed Clem, in mock despair.</p>
 			<p>“Set up a telegraph wire, and then she would need nothing more,” insinuated Cyn.</p>
-			<p>“And get snubbed for my pains!” muttered Clem, <i>sotto voce</i>. But Nattie caught the words, and an expression of distress passed over her face.</p>
+			<p>“And get snubbed for my pains!” muttered Clem, sotto voce. But Nattie caught the words, and an expression of distress passed over her face.</p>
 			<p>“This reminds me of that feast!” Cyn declared, as they sealed themselves wherever convenient, with a dish of whatever was handy.</p>
 			<p>“Only more so,” added Clem.</p>
 			<p>“What feast?” asked Celeste, curiously.</p>

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@@ -126,9 +126,8 @@
 			<p>And Nattie, half-laughing, half-serious, but wholly glad, took the key and wrote, “O. K.”</p>
 			<p>If anyone is anxious to know what Clem wrote when Nattie stopped him, here it is.</p>
 			<blockquote>
-				<p>MY LITTLE DARLING MY WIFE</p>
+				<p>MY LITTLE DARLING MY WIFE<a href="endnotes.xhtml#note-3" id="noteref-3" epub:type="noteref">3</a></p>
 			</blockquote>
-			<p>[Transcriber’s Note. The concluding three lines were printed in the American Railroad dialect of Morse. It cannot easily be represented in ASCII as it requires dashes of different lengths]</p>
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