text_original: His buckskin hunting shirt was old and stained and frayed by the briers, and his leggins and moccasins were wet from fording the stream. He leaned his chin on the muzzle of his gun. "Folks live here, sonny?" said he. I nodded. "Whar be they?" "Out," said I.
text_transcription: HIS BUCKSKIN HUNTING SHIRT WAS OLD AND STAINED AND FRAYED BY THE BRIARS AND HIS LEGGINS AND MOCCASINS WERE WET FROM FORDING THE STREAM HE LAID HIS CHIN ON THE MUZZLE OF HIS GUN FOLK LIVE HERE SONNY SAID HE I NODDED WHERE BE THEY OUT SAID I
phonemes: hɪz bˈʌkskɪn hˈʌntɪŋ ʃˈɜːt wʌz ˈoʊld ænd stˈeɪnd ænd fɹˈeɪd baɪ ðə bɹˈaɪɚz, ænd hɪz lˈɛɡɪnz ænd mˈɑːkəsɪnz wɜː wˈɛt fɹʌm fˈɔːɹdɪŋ ðə stɹˈiːm. hiː lˈiːnd hɪz tʃˈɪn ɔnðə mˈʌzəl ʌv hɪz ɡˈʌn. "fˈoʊks lˈaɪv hˈɪɹ, sˈʌni?" sˈɛd hiː. aɪ nˈɑːdᵻd. "wˈɔːɹ biː ðeɪ?" "ˈaʊt," sˈɛd ˈaɪ.