text_original: When we had descended half way down the ladder, Mr. Morgan, before he saw us, having intelligence by his nose of the approach of something extraordinary, cried, "Cot have mercy upon my senses! I pelieve the enemy has poarded us in a stinkpot!"
text_transcription: WHEN WE HAD DESCENDED HALF WAY DOWN THE LADDER MISTER MORGAN BEFORE HE SAW US HAVING INTELLIGENCE BY HIS NOSE IF THE APPROACH OF SOMETHING EXTRAORDINARY CRIED COT HAVE MERCY ON MY SENSES I BELIEVE THE ENEMY HAS POURED US IN A STINK POT
phonemes: wˌɛn wiː hæd dᵻsˈɛndᵻd hˈæf wˈeɪ dˌaʊn ðə lˈædɚ, mˈɪstɚ. mˈɔːɹɡən, bᵻfˌɔːɹ hiː sˈɔː ˌʌs, hˌævɪŋ ɪntˈɛlɪdʒəns baɪ hɪz nˈoʊz ʌvðɪ ɐpɹˈoʊtʃ ʌv sˈʌmθɪŋ ɛkstɹˈɔːɹdɪnˌɛɹi, kɹˈaɪd, "kˈɑːt hæv mˈɜːsi əpˌɑːn maɪ sˈɛnsᵻz! aɪ pˈɛliːv ðɪ ˈɛnəmi hɐz pˈɔːɹdᵻd ˌʌs ɪn ɐ stˈɪŋkpɑːt!"