text_original: "Dig!" roared Cowan. "Dig, for the love of God, for he can't hear me." The three of us set to work with all our might, Poulsson making great holes in the ground at every stroke, Polly Ann scraping at the dirt with the gourd.
text_transcription: DIG ROARED COWAN DIG FOR THE LOVE OF GOD FOR YOU CAN'T HEAR ME THE THREE OF US SET TO WORK WITH ALL OUR MIGHT PULSE AND MAKING GREAT HOLES IN THE GROUND AT EVERY STROKE POLLYAN SCRAPING AT THE DIRT WITH THE GOURD
phonemes: "dˈɪɡ!" ɹˈɔːɹd kˈaʊən. "dˈɪɡ, fɚðə lˈʌv ʌv ɡˈɑːd, fɔːɹ hiː kˈænt hˈɪɹ mˌiː." ðə θɹˈiː ʌv ˌʌs sˈɛt tə wˈɜːk wɪð ˈɔːl ˌaʊɚ mˈaɪt, pˈaʊlsən mˌeɪkɪŋ ɡɹˈeɪt hˈoʊlz ɪnðə ɡɹˈaʊnd æɾ ˈɛvɹi stɹˈoʊk, pˈɑːli ˈæn skɹˈeɪpɪŋ æt ðə dˈɜːt wɪððə ɡˈʊɹd.