text_original: Tom grinned, his mouth full of bacon. "Do?" says he; "we shot a couple of 'em in the legs and arms, and bound 'em up again. They was in a t'arin' rage. I'm more afeard of a scar't man,  a real scar't man  nor a rattler. They cussed us till they was hoarse.
text_transcription: TOM GRINNED HIS MOUTH FULL OF BACON DO SAYS HE WE SHOT A COUPLE OF EM IN THE LEGS AND ARMS AND BOUND THEM UP AGAIN THEY WAS IN A TOWERING RAGE I'M MORE AFEARED OF A SCARED MAN A REAL SCARED MAN NOR A RATTLER THEY CUSSED US TILL THEY WAS HOARSE
phonemes: tˈɑːm ɡɹˈɪnd, hɪz mˈaʊθ fˈʊl ʌv bˈeɪkən. "dˈuː?" sˈɛz hiː; "wiː ʃˈɑːt ɐ kˈʌpəl ʌv ˈɛm ɪnðə lˈɛɡz ænd ˈɑːɹmz, ænd bˈaʊnd ˈɛm ˌʌp ɐɡˈɛn. ðeɪ wʌz ɪn ɐ tˈiːˈɑːɹɹɪn ɹˈeɪdʒ. aɪm mˈɔːɹ ɐfˈɪɹd əvə skˈɑːɹt mˈæn,  ɐ ɹˈiːəl skˈɑːɹt mˈæn nˈɔːɹ ɐ ɹˈætlɚ. ðeɪ kˈʌst ˌʌs tˈɪl ðeɪ wʌz hˈɔːɹs.