text_original: "Pore little deevil," said he, "he's hed a hard time." "He'll be right again soon," said Polly Ann. "He's been sleepin' that way, off and on, fer a week." Her voice faltered into a note of tenderness as her eyes rested on me. "I reckon we owe Davy a heap, Polly Ann," said he.
text_transcription: POOR LITTLE DEVIL SAID HE HE'S HAD A HARD TIME HE'LL BE RIGHT AGAIN SOON SAID POLLYAN HE'S BEEN SLEEPING THAT WAY OFF AND ON FOR A WEEK HER VOICE FALTERED INTO A NOTE OF TENDERNESS AS HER EYES RESTED ON ME I RECKON WE OWE DAVY A HEAP POLLYAN SAID HE
phonemes: "pˈɔːɹ lˈɪɾəl dˈiːvəl," sˈɛd hiː, "hiːz hˈɛd ɐ hˈɑːɹd tˈaɪm." "hiːl biː ɹˈaɪt ɐɡˈɛn sˈuːn," sˈɛd pˈɑːli ˈæn. "hiːz bˌɪn slˈiːpɪn ðæt wˈeɪ, ˈɔf ænd ˈɔn, fˈɜːɹ ɐ wˈiːk." hɜː vˈɔɪs fˈɔltɚd ˌɪntʊ ɐ nˈoʊt ʌv tˈɛndɚnəs æz hɜːɹ ˈaɪz ɹˈɛstᵻd ˈɔn mˌiː. "aɪ ɹˈɛkən wiː ˈoʊ dˈeɪvi ɐ hˈiːp, pˈɑːli ˈæn," sˈɛd hiː.