text_original: "That idiot Tipping lost us the race, sir," he began with quivering lips. "If he'd only left him alone, the horse would have won in a canter. What on earth made him use his whip? He deserves to lose his license. He    " The gall and bitterness of defeat surged into George's brain. "It's no good your talking, Blacksmith," he said; "you put him up. What the devil made you quarrel with Swells?"
text_transcription: THAT IDIOT TIPPING LOST US THE RACE SIR HE BEGAN WITH QUIVERING LIPS IF HE HAD ONLY LEFT HIM ALONE THE HORSE WOULD HAVE WON AND A CANTER WHAT ON EARTH MADE HIM USE HIS WHIP HE DESERVES TO LOSE HIS LICENSE HE THE GALL AND BITTERNESS OF DEFEAT SURGED INTO GEORGE'S BRAIN IT'S NO GOOD YOUR TALKING BLACKSMITH HE SAID YOU PUT HIM UP WHAT THE DEVIL MADE YOU QUARREL WITH SWELLS
phonemes: "ðæt ˈɪdɪət tˈɪpɪŋ lˈɔst ˌʌs ðə ɹˈeɪs, sˌɜː," hiː bɪɡˈæn wɪð kwˈɪvɚɹɪŋ lˈɪps. "ɪf hiːd ˈoʊnli lˈɛft hˌɪm ɐlˈoʊn, ðə hˈɔːɹs wʊdhɐv wˈʌn ɪn ɐ kˈæntɚ. wˌʌt ˌɔn ˈɜːθ mˌeɪd hˌɪm jˈuːs hɪz wˈɪp? hiː dɪzˈɜːvz tə lˈuːz hɪz lˈaɪsəns. hiː    " ðə ɡˈɔːl ænd bˈɪtɚnəs ʌv dᵻfˈiːt sˈɜːdʒd ˌɪntʊ dʒˈɔːɹdʒᵻz bɹˈeɪn. "ɪts nˈoʊ ɡˈʊd jʊɹ tˈɔːkɪŋ, blˈæksmɪθ," hiː sˈɛd; "juː pˌʊt hˌɪm ˈʌp. wˌʌt ðə dˈɛvəl mˌeɪd juː kwˈɔːɹəl wɪð swˈɛlz?"