text_original: As Polly Ann and I went about our daily chores, we would talk of Tom McChesney. Often she would sit idle at the hand mill, a light in her eyes that I would have given kingdoms for. One ever memorable morning, early in the crisp autumn, a grizzled man strode up the trail, and Polly Ann dropped the ear of corn she was husking and stood still, her bosom heaving.
text_transcription: AS POLLYANN AND I WENT ABOUT OUR DAILY CHORES WE WOULD TALK OF TOM A CHESTNUT OFTEN SHE WOULD SIT IDLE AT THE HANDMILL A LIGHT IN HER EYES THAT I WOULD HAVE GIVEN KINGDOMS FOR ONE EVER MEMORABLE MORNING EARLY IN THE CRISP AUTUMN A GRIZZLED MAN STRODE UP THE TRAIL AND POLLY ANNE DROPPED THE EAR OF CORN SHE WAS HUSKING AND STOOD STILL HER BOSOM HEAVING
phonemes: æz pˈɑːli ˈæn ænd aɪ wɛnt ɐbˌaʊt ˌaʊɚ dˈeɪli tʃˈɔːɹz, wiː wʊd tˈɔːk ʌv tˈɑːm mə tʃˈɛsni. ˈɔfən ʃiː wʊd sˈɪt ˈaɪdəl æt ðə hˈænd mˈɪl, ɐ lˈaɪt ɪn hɜːɹ ˈaɪz ðæt aɪ wʊdhɐv ɡˈɪvən kˈɪŋdəmz fɔːɹ. wˈʌn ˈɛvɚ mˈɛmɚɹəbəl mˈɔːɹnɪŋ, ˈɜːli ɪnðə kɹˈɪsp ˈɔːɾʌm, ɐ ɡɹˈɪzəld mˈæn stɹˈoʊd ˌʌp ðə tɹˈeɪl, ænd pˈɑːli ˈæn dɹˈɑːpt ðɪ ˈɪɹ ʌv kˈɔːɹn ʃiː wʌz hˈʌskɪŋ ænd stˈʊd stˈɪl, hɜː bˈʊzəm hˈiːvɪŋ.