text_original: My shoulder bruised by the kick, the smoke like a veil before my face, it was some moments ere I knew that the air was full of whistling bullets; and then the gun was torn from my hands, and I saw Polly Ann ramming in a new charge. "The pistol, Davy," she cried.
text_transcription: MY SHOULDER BRUISED BY THE KICK THE SMOKE LIKE A VEIL BEFORE MY FACE IT WAS SOME MOMENTS ERE I KNEW THAT THE AIR WAS FULL OF WHISTLING BULLETS AND THEN THE GUN WAS TORN FROM MY HANDS AND I SAW POLLY ANN RAMMING IN A NEW CHARGE THE PISTOL DAVY SHE CRIED
phonemes: maɪ ʃˈoʊldɚ bɹˈuːzd baɪ ðə kˈɪk, ðə smˈoʊk lˈaɪk ɐ vˈeɪl bᵻfˌɔːɹ maɪ fˈeɪs, ɪt wʌz sˌʌm mˈoʊmənts ˈɛɹ aɪ nˈuː ðætðɪ ˈɛɹ wʌz fˈʊl ʌv wˈɪsəlɪŋ bˈʊlɪts; ænd ðˈɛn ðə ɡˈʌn wʌz tˈɔːɹn fɹʌm maɪ hˈændz, ænd aɪ sˈɔː pˈɑːli ˈæn ɹˈæmɪŋ ɪn ɐ nˈuː tʃˈɑːɹdʒ. "ðə pˈɪstəl, dˈeɪvi," ʃiː kɹˈaɪd.