text_original: Well, what should it be, but this blessed Sathurday morn the missus was a spakin' pleasant and respec'ful wid me in me kitchen, when the grocer boy comes in an' stands fornenst her wid his boondles, an' she motions like to Fing Wing (which I never would call him by that name nor any other but just haythin); she motions to him, she does, for to take the boondles an' empty out the sugar an' what not where they belongs.
text_transcription: WELL WHAT SHOULD IT BE BUT THIS BLESSED SATURDAY MORN THE MISSES WAS A SPAKIN PLEASANT AND RESPECTFUL WI ME IN ME KITCHEN WHEN THE GROCER BOY COMES IN AND STANDS FOR INSTER WID HISNDLES AND SHE MOTIONS LIKE TO THING WING WHICH I NEVER WOULD CALL HIM BY THAT NAME NOR ANY OTHER BUT JUST HAVEN SHE MOTIONS TO HIM SHE DOES FOR TO TAKE THE BOONDLES AND EMPTY OUT THE SUGAR AND WHAT NOT WHERE THEY BELONGS
phonemes: wˈɛl, wˌʌt ʃˌʊd ɪt bˈiː, bˌʌt ðɪs blˈɛst sˈæθɚdˌeɪ mˈɔːɹn ðə mˈɪsəs wʌzɐ spˈækɪn plˈɛzənt ænd ɹᵻspˈɛkfəl wˈɪd mˌiː ɪn mˌiː kˈɪtʃən, wˌɛn ðə ɡɹˈoʊsɚ bˈɔɪ kˈʌmz ɪn æn stˈændz fˈɔːɹnɛnst hɜː wˈɪd hɪz bˈuːndəlz, æn ʃiː mˈoʊʃənz lˈaɪk tə fˈɪŋ wˈɪŋ (wˌɪtʃ aɪ nˈɛvɚ wʊd kˈɔːl hˌɪm baɪ ðæt nˈeɪm nˈɔːɹ ˌɛni ˈʌðɚ bˌʌt dʒˈʌst hˈeɪθɪn); ʃiː mˈoʊʃənz tə hˌɪm, ʃiː dˈʌz, fɔːɹ tə tˈeɪk ðə bˈuːndəlz æn ˈɛmpti ˈaʊt ðə ʃˈʊɡɚɹ æn wʌt nˌɑːt wˌɛɹ ðeɪ bᵻlˈɔŋz.