text_original: My father asked him where he could spend the night. "Wal," said the boy, "I reckon Uncle Crawford might take you in. And again he mightn't." He ran ahead, still swinging the pail. And we, following, came at length to a comfortable looking farmhouse.
text_transcription: MY FATHER ASKED HIM WHERE HE COULD SPEND THE NIGHT WELL SAID THE BOY I RECKON UNCLE CRAWFORD MIGHT TAKE IN AND AGAIN HE MIGHTN'T HE RAN AHEAD STILL SWINGING THE PAIL AND WE FOLLOWING CAME AT LENGTH TO A COMFORTABLE LOOKING FARMHOUSE
phonemes: maɪ fˈɑːðɚɹ ˈæskt hˌɪm wˌɛɹ hiː kʊd spˈɛnd ðə nˈaɪt. "wˈæl," sˈɛd ðə bˈɔɪ, "aɪ ɹˈɛkən ˈʌŋkəl kɹˈɔːfɚd mˌaɪt tˈeɪk juː ˈɪn. ænd ɐɡˈɛn hiː mˈaɪtənt." hiː ɹˈæn ɐhˈɛd, stˈɪl swˈɪŋɪŋ ðə pˈeɪl. ænd wiː, fˈɑːloʊɪŋ, kˈeɪm æt lˈɛŋθ tʊ ɐ kˈʌmftəbəl lˈʊkɪŋ fˈɑːɹmhaʊs.