text_original: "Well hit, sir! I've always said that anyone with a little pluck can knock off that lefthand man you think so much of. He 'comes in' a bit, but he bowls a shocking bad length. Here I am dawdling. I must get back!" And once more that real solemnity came over Mr. Barter's face. "I suppose you'll be playing for Coldingham against us on Thursday? Good bye!" Nodding in response to Winlow's salute, he walked away.
text_transcription: WELL HIT SIR I'VE ALWAYS SAID THAT ANY ONE WITH A LITTLE PLUCK CAN KNOCK OFF THAT LEFT HAND MAN YOU THINK SO MUCH OF HE COMES IN A BIT BUT HE BOWLS A SHOCKING BAD LENGTH HERE I AM DAWDLING I MUST GET BACK AND ONCE MORE THAT SOLEMNITY CAME OVER MISTER BARDER'S FACE I SUPPOSE YOU'LL BE PLAYING FOR COLDINGHAM AGAINST US ON THURSDAY GOOD BY NODDING IN RESPONSE TO WINLOUGH'S SALUTE HE WALKED AWAY
phonemes: "wˈɛl hˈɪt, sˌɜː! aɪv ˈɔːlweɪz sˈɛd ðæt ˈɛnɪwˌʌn wɪð ɐ lˈɪɾəl plˈʌk kæn nˈɑːk ˈɔf ðæt lˈɛfthænd mˈæn juː θˈɪŋk sˈoʊ mˌʌtʃ ʌv. hiː kˈʌmz ɪn ɐ bˈɪt, bˌʌt hiː bˈoʊlz ɐ ʃˈɑːkɪŋ bˈæd lˈɛŋθ. hˈɪɹ aɪɐm dˈɔːdlɪŋ. aɪ mˈʌst ɡɛt bˈæk!" ænd wˈʌns mˈɔːɹ ðæt ɹˈiːəl sɑːlˈɛmnᵻɾi kˈeɪm ˌoʊvɚ mˈɪstɚ. bˈɑːɹɾɚz fˈeɪs. "aɪ səpˈoʊz juːl biː plˈeɪɪŋ fɔːɹ kˈoʊldɪŋˌæm ɐɡˈɛnst ˌʌs ˌɔn θˈɜːzdeɪ? ɡˈʊd bˈaɪ!" nˈɑːdɪŋ ɪn ɹᵻspˈɑːns tə wˈɪnloʊz səlˈuːt, hiː wˈɔːkt ɐwˈeɪ.