text_original: Swein Poulsson, he that once hid under the bed, deserves a special tablet to his memory. He was for giving me all he had, though his little eyes were unnaturally bright and the red had left his cheeks now. "He haf no belly, only a leedle on his backbone!" he cried.
text_transcription: SWIN PULSON HE THAT ONCE HID UNDER THE BED DESERVES A SPECIAL TABLET TO HIS MEMORY HE WAS FORGIVING ME ALL HE HAD THOUGH HIS LITTLE EYES WERE UNNATURALLY BRIGHT AND THE RED HAD LEFT HIS CHEEKS NOW YOU HAVE NO BELLY ONLY A LEETLE ON HIS BACKBONE HE CRIED
phonemes: swˈeɪn pˈaʊlsən, hiː ðæt wˈʌns hˈɪd ˌʌndɚ ðə bˈɛd, dɪzˈɜːvz ɐ spˈɛʃəl tˈæblət tə hɪz mˈɛmɚɹi. hiː wʌz fɔːɹ ɡˈɪvɪŋ mˌiː ˈɔːl hiː hˈæd, ðˌoʊ hɪz lˈɪɾəl ˈaɪz wɜːɹ ʌnnˈætʃɚɹəli bɹˈaɪt ænd ðə ɹˈɛd hæd lˈɛft hɪz tʃˈiːks nˈaʊ. "hiː hˈæf nˈoʊ bˈɛli, ˈoʊnli ɐ lˈiːdəl ˌɔn hɪz bˈækboʊn!" hiː kɹˈaɪd.