text_original: What cheer, father? what cheer? I suppose you don't know me—mayhap you don't. My name is Tom Bowling, and this here boy, you look as if you did not know him neither; 'tis like you mayn't. He's new rigged, i'faith; his cloth don't shake in the wind so much as it wont to do. 'Tis my nephew, d'y see, Roderick Random—your own flesh and blood, old gentleman. Don't lay a stern, you dog," pulling me forward.
text_transcription: WHAT CHEER FATHER WHAT CHEER I SUPPOSE YOU DON'T KNOW ME MAYHAP YOU DON'T MY NAME IS TOM BOWLING AND THIS ERE BOY YOU LOOK AS IF YOU DID NOT KNOW HIM NEITHER TIS LIKE YOU MAYN'T HE'S NEW RIGGED I'FAITH HIS CLOTH DON'T SHAKE IN THE WIND SO MUCH AS IT WON'T DO TIS MY NEPHEW D'YE SEE RODERICK RANDOM YOUR OWN FLESH AND BLOOD OLD GENTLEMEN DON'T LAY ASTERN YOU DOG PULLING ME FORWARD
phonemes: wˌʌt tʃˈɪɹ, fˈɑːðɚ? wˌʌt tʃˈɪɹ? aɪ səpˈoʊz juː dˈoʊnt nˈoʊ mˌiː—mˈeɪhæp juː dˈoʊnt. maɪ nˈeɪm ɪz tˈɑːm bˈoʊlɪŋ, ænd ðɪs hˈɪɹ bˈɔɪ, juː lˈʊk æz ɪf juː dɪdnˌɑːt nˈoʊ hˌɪm nˈiːðɚ; tˈɪz lˈaɪk juː mˈeɪənt. hiːz nˈuː ɹˈɪɡd, aɪfˈeɪθ; hɪz klˈɔθ dˈoʊnt ʃˈeɪk ɪnðə wˈɪnd sˈoʊ mˌʌtʃ æz ɪt wˈɔnt tə dˈuː. tˈɪz maɪ nˈɛfjuː, dˈiːˈaɪ sˈiː, ɹˈɑːdɹɪk ɹˈændəm—jʊɹ ˈoʊn flˈɛʃ ænd blˈʌd, ˈoʊld dʒˈɛntəlmən. dˈoʊnt lˈeɪ ɐ stˈɜːn, juː dˈɑːɡ," pˈʊlɪŋ mˌiː fˈɔːɹwɚd.