text_original: He smiled a little, sadly, at my sorrowful look, and then drew me to him and patted my shoulder. "It is no place for a young lad,  an idle garrison. I think," he continued presently, "I think you have a future, David, if you do not lose your head.
text_transcription: HE SMILED A LITTLE SADLY AT MY SORROWFUL LOOK AND THEN DREW ME TO HIM AND PATTED MY SHOULDER IT'S NO PLACE FOR A YOUNG LAD AN IDLE GARRISON I THINK HE CONTINUED PRESENTLY I THINK YOU HAVE A FUTURE DAVID IF YOU DO NOT LOSE YOUR HEAD
phonemes: hiː smˈaɪld ɐ lˈɪɾəl, sˈædli, æt maɪ sˈɑːɹoʊfəl lˈʊk, ænd ðˈɛn dɹˈuː mˌiː tə hˌɪm ænd pˈæɾᵻd maɪ ʃˈoʊldɚ. "ɪɾ ɪz nˈoʊ plˈeɪs fɚɹə jˈʌŋ lˈæd,  ɐn ˈaɪdəl ɡˈæɹɪsən. aɪ θˈɪŋk," hiː kəntˈɪnjuːd pɹˈɛzəntli, "aɪ θˈɪŋk juː hæv ɐ fjˈuːtʃɚ, dˈeɪvɪd, ɪf juː duːnˌɑːt lˈuːz jʊɹ hˈɛd.