text_original: Another breathing space, and then the war cry of the Puans broke hideously on the night, and children woke, crying, from their sleep. In two bounds our little detachment was in the street, the fire spouting red from the Deckards, faint, shadowy forms fading along the line of trees.
text_transcription: ANOTHER BREATHING SPACE AND THEN THE WAR CRY OF THE PEWANS BROKE HIDEOUSLY ON THE NIGHT AND THE CHILDREN WOKE CRYING FROM THEIR SLEEP IN TWO BOUNDS OUR LITTLE DETACHMENT WAS IN THE STREET THE FIRE SPOUTING RED FROM THE DECKERS FAINT SHADOWY FORMS FADING ALONG THE LINE OF TREES
phonemes: ɐnˈʌðɚ bɹˈiːðɪŋ spˈeɪs, ænd ðˈɛn ðə wˈɔːɹ kɹˈaɪ ʌvðə pjˈuːænz bɹˈoʊk hˈɪdiəsli ɔnðə nˈaɪt, ænd tʃˈɪldɹən wˈoʊk, kɹˈaɪɪŋ, fɹʌm ðɛɹ slˈiːp. ɪn tˈuː bˈaʊndz ˌaʊɚ lˈɪɾəl dɪtˈætʃmənt wʌz ɪnðə stɹˈiːt, ðə fˈaɪɚ spˈaʊɾɪŋ ɹˈɛd fɹʌmðə dˈɛkɚdz, fˈeɪnt, ʃˈædoʊi fˈɔːɹmz fˈeɪdɪŋ ɐlˈɔŋ ðə lˈaɪn ʌv tɹˈiːz.