text_original: Thet night, I tell ye, she looked _some_! She seemed to've gut a new soul, For she felt sartin sure he'd come, Down to her very shoe sole. She heered a foot, an' knowed it, tu, A raspin' on the scraper   All ways to once her feelin's flew Like sparks in burnt up paper.
text_transcription: THAT NIGHT I TELL YE SHE LOOKED SOME SHE SEEMED TO HAVE GOT A NEW SOUL FOR SHE FELT SARTAIN SURE HE'D COME DOWN TO HER VERY SHREWD SOUL SHE HEERD A FOOT AND KNOWED IT TOO A RASPIN ON THE SCRAPER ALWAYS TO ONCE HER FEELINS FLEW LIKE SPARKS IN BURNT UP PAPER
phonemes: θˈɛt nˈaɪt, aɪ tˈɛl jˈiː, ʃiː lˈʊkt sˌʌm! ʃiː sˈiːmd tʊəv ɡˈʌt ɐ nˈuː sˈoʊl, fɔːɹ ʃiː fˈɛlt sˈɑːɹtɪn ʃˈʊɹ hiːd kˈʌm, dˌaʊn tə hɜː vˈɛɹi ʃˈuː sˈoʊl. ʃiː hˈɪɹd ɐ fˈʊt, æn nˈoʊd ɪt, tˈuː, ɐ ɹˈæspɪn ɔnðə skɹˈeɪpɚɹ ˈɔːl wˈeɪz tʊ wˈʌns hɜː fˈiːlɪnz flˈuː lˈaɪk spˈɑːɹks ɪn bˈɜːnt ˌʌp pˈeɪpɚ.