text_original: Then in the street beyond the outer gate a coster began calling to the sky, and in the music of his prayers the sound was lost. The young man with a beard, resembling an artist, came down the path. "Perhaps you could tell me, sir, if my son is out?"
text_transcription: THEN IN THE STREET BEYOND THE OUTER GATE A CUSTARD BEGAN CALLING TO THE SKY AND IN THE MUSIC OF HIS PRAYERS THE SOUND WAS LOST THE YOUNG MAN A BEARD RESEMBLING AN ARTIST CAME DOWN THE PATH PERHAPS YOU COULD TELL ME SIR IF MY SON IS OUT
phonemes: ðˈɛn ɪnðə stɹˈiːt bᵻjˌɔnd ðɪ ˈaʊɾɚ ɡˈeɪt ɐ kˈɔstɚ bɪɡˈæn kˈɔːlɪŋ tə ðə skˈaɪ, ænd ɪnðə mjˈuːzɪk ʌv hɪz pɹˈɛɹz ðə sˈaʊnd wʌz lˈɔst. ðə jˈʌŋ mˈæn wɪð ɐ bˈɪɹd, ɹᵻzˈɛmblɪŋ ɐn ˈɑːɹɾɪst, kˈeɪm dˌaʊn ðə pˈæθ. "pɚhˈæps juː kʊd tˈɛl mˌiː, sˌɜː, ɪf maɪ sˈʌn ɪz ˈaʊt?"