text_original: A sound broke the afternoon stillness,  the pattering of small, bare feet on the puncheons. A tremor shook the woman's shoulders, and little Tom stood before her, a quaint figure in a butternut smock, his blue eyes questioning.
text_transcription: A SOUND BROKE THE AFTERNOON STILLNESS THE PATTERING OF SMALL BARE FEET ON THE PUNCHEONS A TREMOR SHOOK THE WOMAN'S SHOULDERS AND LITTLE TOM STOOD BEFORE HER A QUAINT FIGURE IN A BUTTERNUT SMOCK HIS BLUE EYES QUESTIONING
phonemes: ɐ sˈaʊnd bɹˈoʊk ðɪ ˌæftɚnˈuːn stˈɪlnəs,  ðə pˈæɾɚɹɪŋ ʌv smˈɔːl, bˈɛɹ fˈiːt ɔnðə pˈʌntʃənz. ɐ tɹˈɛmɚ ʃˈʊk ðə wˈʊmənz ʃˈoʊldɚz, ænd lˈɪɾəl tˈɑːm stˈʊd bᵻfˈɔːɹ hɜː, ɐ kwˈeɪnt fˈɪɡjɚɹ ɪn ɐ bˈʌtɚnˌʌt smˈɑːk, hɪz blˈuː ˈaɪz kwˈɛstʃənɪŋ.