text_original: "Hey, Frenchy," another of our men put in, stalking up to the clerk, "I reckon this here store's ourn, ef we've a mind to tek it. I 'low you'll give us the rum and the 'baccy. Come on, boys!"
text_transcription: HEY FRENCHY ANOTHER OF OUR MEN PUT IN STALKING UP TO THE CLERK I RECKON THIS YER STORE'S IRON IF WE'RE MINE TO TAKE IT I ALLOW YOU'LL GIVE US THE RUM IN THE BACKEE COME ON BOYS
phonemes: "hˈeɪ, fɹˈɛntʃi," ɐnˈʌðɚɹ ʌv ˌaʊɚ mˈɛn pˌʊt ˈɪn, stˈɔːkɪŋ ˌʌp tə ðə klˈɜːk, "aɪ ɹˈɛkən ðɪs hˈɪɹ stˈɔːɹz ˈɜːn, ˈɛf wiːv ɐ mˈaɪnd tə tˈɛk ɪt. aɪ lˈoʊ juːl ɡˈɪv ˌʌs ðə ɹˈʌm ænd ðə bˈæki. kˈʌm ˈɔn, bˈɔɪz!"