text_original: There was no question of a fight. Cowan picked him up, I say, and before any one knew what happened, he flung him on to the hot roof of the store (the eaves were but two feet above his head), and there the man stuck, clinging to a loose shingle, purpling and coughing and spitting with rage.
text_transcription: THERE WAS NO QUESTION OF A FIGHT COW AND PICKED HIM UP I SAY AND BEFORE ANYONE KNEW WHAT HAPPENED HE FLUNG HIM ON THE HOT ROOF OF THE STORE THE EAVES WERE BUT TWO FEET ABOVE HIS HEAD AND THERE THE MAN STUCK CLINGING TO A LOOSE SHINGLE PURPLING AND COUGHING AND SPITTING WITH RAGE
phonemes: ðɛɹwˌʌz nˈoʊ kwˈɛstʃən əvə fˈaɪt. kˈaʊən pˈɪkt hˌɪm ˈʌp, aɪ sˈeɪ, ænd bᵻfˌɔːɹ ˌɛni wˈʌn nˈuː wʌt hˈæpənd, hiː flˈʌŋ hˌɪm ˌɔn tə ðə hˈɑːt ɹˈuːf ʌvðə stˈɔːɹ (ðɪ ˈiːvz wɜː bˌʌt tˈuː fˈiːt əbˌʌv hɪz hˈɛd), ænd ðɛɹ ðə mˈæn stˈʌk, klˈɪŋɪŋ tʊ ɐ lˈuːs ʃˈɪŋɡəl, pˈɜːplɪŋ ænd kˈɔfɪŋ ænd spˈɪɾɪŋ wɪð ɹˈeɪdʒ.