text_original: Over in the field a fire was burning, and the old woman called to it, "Fire, fire, burn stick; stick won't beat dog, dog won't bite pig, pig won't go over the stile, and at this rate I won't get home till midnight with my pail of fine ripe blackberries."
text_transcription: OVER IN THE FIELD A FIRE WAS BURNING AND THE OLD WOMAN CALLED TO IT FIRE FIRE BURN STICK STICK WON'T BEAT DOG DOG WON'T BITE PIG PIG WON'T GO OVER THIS STILE AND AT THIS RATE I WON'T GET HOME TILL MIDNIGHT WITH MY PAIL OF FINE RIPE BLACKBERRIES
phonemes: ˌoʊvɚɹ ɪnðə fˈiːld ɐ fˈaɪɚ wʌz bˈɜːnɪŋ, ænd ðɪ ˈoʊld wˈʊmən kˈɔːld tʊ ɪt, "fˈaɪɚ, fˈaɪɚ, bˈɜːn stˈɪk; stˈɪk woʊnt bˈiːt dˈɑːɡ, dˈɑːɡ woʊnt bˈaɪt pˈɪɡ, pˈɪɡ woʊnt ɡˌoʊ ˌoʊvɚ ðə stˈaɪl, ænd æt ðɪs ɹˈeɪt aɪ woʊnt ɡɛt hˈoʊm tˈɪl mˈɪdnaɪt wɪð maɪ pˈeɪl ʌv fˈaɪn ɹˈaɪp blˈækbɛɹiz."