text_original: The flowers she was pointing at with her knotty walking stick were particularly large, buxom looking red double daisies, a prize variety, that not even the imagination of a poet could have described as "wee"! "It's wonderful how literature opens one's eyes to the beauties of nature. I always say 'Read the poets,' then it will not matter whether you stay in town or country, nature will be an open book to you."
text_transcription: THE FLOWERS SHE WAS POINTING AT WITH HER KNOTTY WALKING STICK WERE PARTICULARLY LARGE BUXOM LOOKING RED DOUBLE DAISIES A PRIZE VARIETY THAT NOT EVEN THE IMAGINATION OF A POET COULD HAVE DESCRIBED AS WE IT'S WONDERFUL HOW LITERATURE OPENS ONE'S EYES TO THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE I ALWAYS SAY READ THE POETS THEN IT WILL NOT MATTER WHETHER YOU STAY IN TOWN OR COUNTRY NATURE WILL BE AN OPEN BOOK TO YOU
phonemes: ðə flˈaʊɚz ʃiː wʌz pˈɔɪntɪŋ æt wɪð hɜː nˈɑːɾi wˈɔːkɪŋ stˈɪk wɜː pɚtˈɪkjʊlɚli lˈɑːɹdʒ, bˈʌksəm lˈʊkɪŋ ɹˈɛd dˈʌbəl dˈeɪziz, ɐ pɹˈaɪz vɚɹˈaɪəɾi, ðæt nˌɑːt ˈiːvən ðɪ ɪmˌædʒᵻnˈeɪʃən əvə pˈoʊɪt kˌʊdɐv dᵻskɹˈaɪbd æz "wˈiː"! "ɪts wˈʌndɚfəl hˌaʊ lˈɪɾɚɹᵻtʃɚɹ ˈoʊpənz wˈʌnz ˈaɪz tə ðə bjˈuːɾiz ʌv nˈeɪtʃɚ. aɪ ˈɔːlweɪz sˈeɪ ɹˈiːd ðə pˈoʊɪts,ðˈɛn ɪt wɪl nˌɑːt mˈæɾɚ wˈɛðɚ juː stˈeɪ ɪn tˈaʊn ɔːɹ kˈʌntɹi, nˈeɪtʃɚ wɪl biː ɐn ˈoʊpən bˈʊk tə juː."