text_original: Once a month would I load these pelts on the white mare, and make the journey by the path down the creek. At times I met other settlers there, some of them not long from Ireland, with the brogue still in their mouths.
text_transcription: ONCE A MONTH WOULD I LOAD THESE PELTS ON THE WHITE MARE AND MAKE THE JOURNEY BY THE PATH DOWN THE CREEK AT TIMES I MET OTHER SETTLERS THERE SOME OF THEM NOT LONG FROM IRELAND WITH THE BROGUE STILL IN THEIR MOUTHS
phonemes: wˈʌns ɐ mˈʌnθ wʊd aɪ lˈoʊd ðiːz pˈɛlts ɔnðə wˈaɪt mˈɛɹ, ænd mˌeɪk ðə dʒˈɜːni baɪ ðə pˈæθ dˌaʊn ðə kɹˈiːk. æt tˈaɪmz aɪ mˈɛt ˈʌðɚ sˈɛtlɚz ðˈɛɹ, sˌʌm ʌv ðˌɛm nˌɑːt lˈɔŋ fɹʌm ˈaɪɚlənd, wɪððə bɹˈoʊɡ stˈɪl ɪn ðɛɹ mˈaʊðz.