text_original: After that an uproar of awakening, cries here and there, a drum beating madly for the militia. The dozen flung themselves across the stream, I hot in their wake, through Mr. Brady's gate, which was open; and there was a scene of sweet tranquillity under the lantern's rays,  the North Wind and his friends wrapped in their blankets and sleeping the sleep of the just.
text_transcription: AFTER THAT AN UPROAR OF AWAKENING CRIES HERE AND THERE A DRUM BEATING MADLY FOR THE MILITIA THE DOZEN FLUNG THEMSELVES ACROSS THE STREAM I HOT IN THEIR WAKE THROUGH MISTER BRADY'S GATE WHICH WAS OPEN AND THERE WAS A SCENE OF SWEET TRANQUILLITY UNDER THE LANON'S RAYS THE NORTH WIND AND HIS FRIENDS WRAPPED IN THEIR BLANKETS AND SLEEPING THE SLEEP OF THE JUST
phonemes: ˈæftɚ ðæt ɐn ˈʌpɹɔːɹ ʌv ɐwˈeɪkənɪŋ, kɹˈaɪz hˈɪɹ ɐnd ðˈɛɹ, ɐ dɹˈʌm bˈiːɾɪŋ mˈædli fɚðə məlˈɪʃə. ðə dˈʌzən flˈʌŋ ðɛmsˈɛlvz əkɹˌɑːs ðə stɹˈiːm, aɪ hˈɑːt ɪn ðɛɹ wˈeɪk, θɹuː mˈɪstɚ. bɹˈeɪdiz ɡˈeɪt, wˌɪtʃ wʌz ˈoʊpən; ænd ðɛɹwˌʌz ɐ sˈiːn ʌv swˈiːt tɹæŋkwˈɪlᵻɾi ˌʌndɚ ðə lˈæntɚnz ɹˈeɪz,  ðə nˈɔːɹθ wˈɪnd ænd hɪz fɹˈɛndz ɹˈæpt ɪn ðɛɹ blˈæŋkɪts ænd slˈiːpɪŋ ðə slˈiːp ʌvðə dʒˈʌst.