text_original: "I don't like it at all," said Bobby Frog to his friend Tim Lumpy, that evening in the sleeping car of the railway train that bore them onward to Montreal; "they'll soon be partin' you an' me, an' that'll be worse than wallerin' in the mud of Vitechapel."
text_transcription: I DON'T LIKE IT AT ALL SAID BOBBY FROG TO HIS FRIEND TIM LUMPY THAT EVENING IN THE SLEEPING CAR OF THE RAILWAY TRAIN THAT BORE THEM ONWARD TO MONTREAL THEY'LL SOON BE PARTN YOU AND ME AND THAT'LL BE WORSE THAN WALLERIN IN THE MUD OF WHITECHAPEL
phonemes: "aɪ dˈoʊnt lˈaɪk ɪɾ æɾ ˈɔːl," sˈɛd bˈɑːbi fɹˈɑːɡ tə hɪz fɹˈɛnd tˈɪm lˈʌmpi, ðæt ˈiːvnɪŋ ɪnðə slˈiːpɪŋ kˈɑːɹ ʌvðə ɹˈeɪlweɪ tɹˈeɪn ðæt bˈɔːɹ ðˌɛm ˈɑːnwɚd tə mˌɑːntɹɪˈɔːl; "ðeɪl sˈuːn biː pˈɑːɹtɪn juː æn mˌiː, æn ðˌæɾəl biː wˈɜːs ðɐn wˈɔlɚɹˌɪn ɪnðə mˈʌd ʌv vˌaɪtɛkɐpˈɛl."