Update <hgroup> children after first <h#> to <p>, ref. new HTML standard

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@@ -9,7 +9,7 @@
 		<section id="chapter-1" epub:type="chapter">
 			<hgroup>
 				<h2 epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">I</h2>
-				<h3 epub:type="title">Peter Breaks Through</h3>
+				<p epub:type="title">Peter Breaks Through</p>
 			</hgroup>
 			<p>All children, except one, grow up. They soon know that they will grow up, and the way Wendy knew was this. One day when she was two years old she was playing in a garden, and she plucked another flower and ran with it to her mother. I suppose she must have looked rather delightful, for <abbr>Mrs.</abbr> Darling put her hand to her heart and cried, “Oh, why can’t you remain like this forever!” This was all that passed between them on the subject, but henceforth Wendy knew that she must grow up. You always know after you are two. Two is the beginning of the end.</p>
 			<p>Of course they lived at 14, and until Wendy came her mother was the chief one. She was a lovely lady, with a romantic mind and such a sweet mocking mouth. Her romantic mind was like the tiny boxes, one within the other, that come from the puzzling East, however many you discover there is always one more; and her sweet mocking mouth had one kiss on it that Wendy could never get, though there it was, perfectly conspicuous in the right-hand corner.</p>

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 		<section id="chapter-10" epub:type="chapter">
 			<hgroup>
 				<h2 epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">X</h2>
-				<h3 epub:type="title">The Happy Home</h3>
+				<p epub:type="title">The Happy Home</p>
 			</hgroup>
 			<p>One important result of the brush on the lagoon was that it made the redskins their friends. Peter had saved Tiger Lily from a dreadful fate, and now there was nothing she and her braves would not do for him. All night they sat above, keeping watch over the home under the ground and awaiting the big attack by the pirates which obviously could not be much longer delayed. Even by day they hung about, smoking the pipe of peace, and looking almost as if they wanted titbits to eat.</p>
 			<p>They called Peter the Great White Father, prostrating themselves before him; and he liked this tremendously, so that it was not really good for him.</p>

src/epub/text/chapter-11.xhtml

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 		<section id="chapter-11" epub:type="chapter">
 			<hgroup>
 				<h2 epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">XI</h2>
-				<h3 epub:type="title">Wendy’s Story</h3>
+				<p epub:type="title">Wendy’s Story</p>
 			</hgroup>
 			<p>“Listen, then,” said Wendy, settling down to her story, with Michael at her feet and seven boys in the bed. “There was once a gentleman⁠—”</p>
 			<p>“I had rather he had been a lady,” Curly said.</p>

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 		<section id="chapter-12" epub:type="chapter">
 			<hgroup>
 				<h2 epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">XII</h2>
-				<h3 epub:type="title">The Children Are Carried Off</h3>
+				<p epub:type="title">The Children Are Carried Off</p>
 			</hgroup>
 			<p>The pirate attack had been a complete surprise: a sure proof that the unscrupulous Hook had conducted it improperly, for to surprise redskins fairly is beyond the wit of the white man.</p>
 			<p>By all the unwritten laws of savage warfare it is always the redskin who attacks, and with the wiliness of his race he does it just before the dawn, at which time he knows the courage of the whites to be at its lowest ebb. The white men have in the meantime made a rude stockade on the summit of yonder undulating ground, at the foot of which a stream runs; for it is destruction to be too far from water. There they await the onslaught, the inexperienced ones clutching their revolvers and treading on twigs, but the old hands sleeping tranquilly until just before the dawn. Through the long black night the savage scouts wriggle, snakelike, among the grass without stirring a blade. The brushwood closes behind them as silently as sand into which a mole has dived. Not a sound is to be heard, save when they give vent to a wonderful imitation of the lonely call of the coyote. The cry is answered by other braves; and some of them do it even better than the coyotes, who are not very good at it. So the chill hours wear on, and the long suspense is horribly trying to the paleface who has to live through it for the first time; but to the trained hand those ghastly calls and still ghastlier silences are but an intimation of how the night is marching.</p>

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 		<section id="chapter-13" epub:type="chapter">
 			<hgroup>
 				<h2 epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">XIII</h2>
-				<h3 epub:type="title">Do You Believe in Fairies?</h3>
+				<p epub:type="title">Do You Believe in Fairies?</p>
 			</hgroup>
 			<p>The more quickly this horror is disposed of the better. The first to emerge from his tree was Curly. He rose out of it into the arms of Cecco, who flung him to Smee, who flung him to Starkey, who flung him to Bill Jukes, who flung him to Noodler, and so he was tossed from one to another till he fell at the feet of the black pirate. All the boys were plucked from their trees in this ruthless manner; and several of them were in the air at a time, like bales of goods flung from hand to hand.</p>
 			<p>A different treatment was accorded to Wendy, who came last. With ironical politeness Hook raised his hat to her, and, offering her his arm, escorted her to the spot where the others were being gagged. He did it with such an air, he was so frightfully distingué, that she was too fascinated to cry out. She was only a little girl.</p>

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 		<section id="chapter-14" epub:type="chapter">
 			<hgroup>
 				<h2 epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">XIV</h2>
-				<h3 epub:type="title">The Pirate Ship</h3>
+				<p epub:type="title">The Pirate Ship</p>
 			</hgroup>
 			<p>One green light squinting over Kidd’s Creek, which is near the mouth of the pirate river, marked where the brig, the <i epub:type="se:name.vessel.ship">Jolly Roger</i>, lay, low in the water; a rakish-looking craft foul to the hull, every beam in her detestable like ground strewn with mangled feathers. She was the cannibal of the seas, and scarce needed that watchful eye, for she floated immune in the horror of her name.</p>
 			<p>She was wrapped in the blanket of night, through which no sound from her could have reached the shore. There was little sound, and none agreeable save the whir of the ship’s sewing machine at which Smee sat, ever industrious and obliging, the essence of the commonplace, pathetic Smee. I know not why he was so infinitely pathetic, unless it were because he was so pathetically unaware of it; but even strong men had to turn hastily from looking at him, and more than once on summer evenings he had touched the fount of Hook’s tears and made it flow. Of this, as of almost everything else, Smee was quite unconscious.</p>

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 		<section id="chapter-15" epub:type="chapter">
 			<hgroup>
 				<h2 epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">XV</h2>
-				<h3 epub:type="title">“Hook or Me This Time”</h3>
+				<p epub:type="title">“Hook or Me This Time”</p>
 			</hgroup>
 			<p>Odd things happen to all of us on our way through life without our noticing for a time that they have happened. Thus, to take an instance, we suddenly discover that we have been deaf in one ear for we don’t know how long, but, say, half an hour. Now such an experience had come that night to Peter. When last we saw him he was stealing across the island with one finger to his lips and his dagger at the ready. He had seen the crocodile pass by without noticing anything peculiar about it, but by and by he remembered that it had not been ticking. At first he thought this eerie, but soon he concluded rightly that the clock had run down.</p>
 			<p>Without giving a thought to what might be the feelings of a fellow-creature thus abruptly deprived of its closest companion, Peter at once considered how he could turn the catastrophe to his own use; and he decided to tick, so that wild beasts should believe he was the crocodile and let him pass unmolested. He ticked superbly, but with one unforeseen result. The crocodile was among those who heard the sound, and it followed him, though whether with the purpose of regaining what it had lost, or merely as a friend under the belief that it was again ticking itself, will never be certainly known, for, like all slaves to a fixed idea, it was a stupid beast.</p>

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 		<section id="chapter-16" epub:type="chapter">
 			<hgroup>
 				<h2 epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">XVI</h2>
-				<h3 epub:type="title">The Return Home</h3>
+				<p epub:type="title">The Return Home</p>
 			</hgroup>
 			<p>By two bells that morning they were all stirring their stumps; for there was a big sea running; and Tootles, the bo’sun, was among them, with a rope’s end in his hand and chewing tobacco. They all donned pirate clothes cut off at the knee, shaved smartly, and tumbled up, with the true nautical roll and hitching their trousers.</p>
 			<p>It need not be said who was the captain. Nibs and John were first and second mate. There was a woman aboard. The rest were tars before the mast, and lived in the fo’c’sle. Peter had already lashed himself to the wheel; but he piped all hands and delivered a short address to them; said he hoped they would do their duty like gallant hearties, but that he knew they were the scum of <span epub:type="z3998:place">Rio</span> and the <span epub:type="z3998:place">Gold Coast</span>, and if they snapped at him he would tear them. His bluff strident words struck the note sailors understand, and they cheered him lustily. Then a few sharp orders were given, and they turned the ship round, and nosed her for the mainland.</p>

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 		<section id="chapter-17" epub:type="chapter">
 			<hgroup>
 				<h2 epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">XVII</h2>
-				<h3 epub:type="title">When Wendy Grew Up</h3>
+				<p epub:type="title">When Wendy Grew Up</p>
 			</hgroup>
 			<p>I hope you want to know what became of the other boys. They were waiting below to give Wendy time to explain about them; and when they had counted five hundred they went up. They went up by the stair, because they thought this would make a better impression. They stood in a row in front of <abbr>Mrs.</abbr> Darling, with their hats off, and wishing they were not wearing their pirate clothes. They said nothing, but their eyes asked her to have them. They ought to have looked at <abbr>Mr.</abbr> Darling also, but they forgot about him.</p>
 			<p>Of course <abbr>Mrs.</abbr> Darling said at once that she would have them; but <abbr>Mr.</abbr> Darling was curiously depressed, and they saw that he considered six a rather large number.</p>

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 		<section id="chapter-2" epub:type="chapter">
 			<hgroup>
 				<h2 epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">II</h2>
-				<h3 epub:type="title">The Shadow</h3>
+				<p epub:type="title">The Shadow</p>
 			</hgroup>
 			<p><abbr>Mrs.</abbr> Darling screamed, and, as if in answer to a bell, the door opened, and Nana entered, returned from her evening out. She growled and sprang at the boy, who leapt lightly through the window. Again <abbr>Mrs.</abbr> Darling screamed, this time in distress for him, for she thought he was killed, and she ran down into the street to look for his little body, but it was not there; and she looked up, and in the black night she could see nothing but what she thought was a shooting star.</p>
 			<p>She returned to the nursery, and found Nana with something in her mouth, which proved to be the boy’s shadow. As he leapt at the window Nana had closed it quickly, too late to catch him, but his shadow had not had time to get out; slam went the window and snapped it off.</p>

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 		<section id="chapter-3" epub:type="chapter">
 			<hgroup>
 				<h2 epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">III</h2>
-				<h3 epub:type="title">Come Away, Come Away!</h3>
+				<p epub:type="title">Come Away, Come Away!</p>
 			</hgroup>
 			<p>For a moment after <abbr>Mr.</abbr> and <abbr>Mrs.</abbr> Darling left the house the night-lights by the beds of the three children continued to burn clearly. They were awfully nice little night-lights, and one cannot help wishing that they could have kept awake to see Peter; but Wendy’s light blinked and gave such a yawn that the other two yawned also, and before they could close their mouths all the three went out.</p>
 			<p>There was another light in the room now, a thousand times brighter than the night-lights, and in the time we have taken to say this, it has been in all the drawers in the nursery, looking for Peter’s shadow, rummaged the wardrobe and turned every pocket inside out. It was not really a light; it made this light by flashing about so quickly, but when it came to rest for a second you saw it was a fairy, no longer than your hand, but still growing. It was a girl called Tinker Bell exquisitely gowned in a skeleton leaf, cut low and square, through which her figure could be seen to the best advantage. She was slightly inclined to embonpoint.</p>

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 		<section id="chapter-4" epub:type="chapter">
 			<hgroup>
 				<h2 epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">IV</h2>
-				<h3 epub:type="title">The Flight</h3>
+				<p epub:type="title">The Flight</p>
 			</hgroup>
 			<p>“Second to the right, and straight on till morning.”</p>
 			<p>That, Peter had told Wendy, was the way to the <span epub:type="z3998:place">Neverland</span>; but even birds, carrying maps and consulting them at windy corners, could not have sighted it with these instructions. Peter, you see, just said anything that came into his head.</p>

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 		<section id="chapter-5" epub:type="chapter">
 			<hgroup>
 				<h2 epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">V</h2>
-				<h3 epub:type="title">The Island Come True</h3>
+				<p epub:type="title">The Island Come True</p>
 			</hgroup>
 			<p>Feeling that Peter was on his way back, the <span epub:type="z3998:place">Neverland</span> had again woke into life. We ought to use the pluperfect and say wakened, but woke is better and was always used by Peter.</p>
 			<p>In his absence things are usually quiet on the island. The fairies take an hour longer in the morning, the beasts attend to their young, the redskins feed heavily for six days and nights, and when pirates and lost boys meet they merely bite their thumbs at each other. But with the coming of Peter, who hates lethargy, they are all under way again: if you put your ear to the ground now, you would hear the whole island seething with life.</p>

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 		<section id="chapter-6" epub:type="chapter">
 			<hgroup>
 				<h2 epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">VI</h2>
-				<h3 epub:type="title">The Little House</h3>
+				<p epub:type="title">The Little House</p>
 			</hgroup>
 			<p>Foolish Tootles was standing like a conqueror over Wendy’s body when the other boys sprang, armed, from their trees.</p>
 			<p>“You are too late,” he cried proudly, “I have shot the Wendy. Peter will be so pleased with me.”</p>

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 		<section id="chapter-7" epub:type="chapter">
 			<hgroup>
 				<h2 epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">VII</h2>
-				<h3 epub:type="title">The Home Under the Ground</h3>
+				<p epub:type="title">The Home Under the Ground</p>
 			</hgroup>
 			<p>One of the first things Peter did next day was to measure Wendy and John and Michael for hollow trees. Hook, you remember, had sneered at the boys for thinking they needed a tree apiece, but this was ignorance, for unless your tree fitted you it was difficult to go up and down, and no two of the boys were quite the same size. Once you fitted, you drew in your breath at the top, and down you went at exactly the right speed, while to ascend you drew in and let out alternately, and so wriggled up. Of course, when you have mastered the action you are able to do these things without thinking of them, and then nothing can be more graceful.</p>
 			<p>But you simply must fit, and Peter measures you for your tree as carefully as for a suit of clothes: the only difference being that the clothes are made to fit you, while you have to be made to fit the tree. Usually it is done quite easily, as by your wearing too many garments or too few; but if you are bumpy in awkward places or the only available tree is an odd shape, Peter does some things to you, and after that you fit. Once you fit, great care must be taken to go on fitting, and this, as Wendy was to discover to her delight, keeps a whole family in perfect condition.</p>

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 		<section id="chapter-8" epub:type="chapter">
 			<hgroup>
 				<h2 epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">VIII</h2>
-				<h3 epub:type="title">The Mermaids’ Lagoon</h3>
+				<p epub:type="title">The Mermaids’ Lagoon</p>
 			</hgroup>
 			<p>If you shut your eyes and are a lucky one, you may see at times a shapeless pool of lovely pale colours suspended in the darkness; then if you squeeze your eyes tighter, the pool begins to take shape, and the colours become so vivid that with another squeeze they must go on fire. But just before they go on fire you see the lagoon. This is the nearest you ever get to it on the mainland, just one heavenly moment; if there could be two moments you might see the surf and hear the mermaids singing.</p>
 			<p>The children often spent long summer days on this lagoon, swimming or floating most of the time, playing the mermaid games in the water, and so forth. You must not think from this that the mermaids were on friendly terms with them; on the contrary, it was among Wendy’s lasting regrets that all the time she was on the island she never had a civil word from one of them. When she stole softly to the edge of the lagoon she might see them by the score, especially on Marooners’ Rock, where they loved to bask, combing out their hair in a lazy way that quite irritated her; or she might even swim, on tiptoe as it were, to within a yard of them, but then they saw her and dived, probably splashing her with their tails, not by accident, but intentionally.</p>

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@@ -9,7 +9,7 @@
 		<section id="chapter-9" epub:type="chapter">
 			<hgroup>
 				<h2 epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">IX</h2>
-				<h3 epub:type="title">The Never Bird</h3>
+				<p epub:type="title">The Never Bird</p>
 			</hgroup>
 			<p>The last sounds Peter heard before he was quite alone were the mermaids retiring one by one to their bedchambers under the sea. He was too far away to hear their doors shut; but every door in the coral caves where they live rings a tiny bell when it opens or closes (as in all the nicest houses on the mainland), and he heard the bells.</p>
 			<p>Steadily the waters rose till they were nibbling at his feet; and to pass the time until they made their final gulp, he watched the only thing moving on the lagoon. He thought it was a piece of floating paper, perhaps part of the kite, and wondered idly how long it would take to drift ashore.</p>