text_original: Into the wool of one of these bulky ewes the farmer's small, yellow haired daughter was twisting her fist, hustling it toward Fate; though pulled almost off her feet by the frightened, stubborn creature, she never let go, till, with a despairing cough, the ewe had passed over the threshold and was fast in the hands of a shearer.
text_transcription: INTO THE WOOL OF ONE OF THESE BULKY EWES THE FARMER'S SMALL YELLOW HAIRED DAUGHTER WAS TWISTING HER FIST HUSTLING IT TOWARD FATE THOUGH PULLED ALMOST OFF HER FEET BY THE FRIGHTENED STUBBORN CREATURE SHE NEVER LET GO TILL WITH A DESPAIRING COUGH THE EWE HAD PASSED OVER THE THRESHOLD AND WAS FAST IN THE HANDS OF A SHARER
phonemes: ˌɪntʊ ðə wˈʊl ʌv wˈʌn ʌv ðiːz bˈʌlki jˈuːz ðə fˈɑːɹmɚz smˈɔːl, jˈɛloʊ hˈɛɹd dˈɔːɾɚ wʌz twˈɪstɪŋ hɜː fˈɪst, hˈʌsəlɪŋ ɪt təwˈɔːɹd fˈeɪt; ðˌoʊ pˈʊld ˈɔːlmoʊst ˈɔf hɜː fˈiːt baɪ ðə fɹˈaɪʔn̩d, stˈʌbɚn kɹˈiːtʃɚ, ʃiː nˈɛvɚ lˈɛt ɡˈoʊ, tˈɪl, wɪð ɐ dᵻspˈɛɹɪŋ kˈɔf, ðə jˈuː hæd pˈæst ˌoʊvɚ ðə θɹˈɛʃoʊld ænd wʌz fˈæst ɪnðə hˈændz əvə ʃˈɪɹɚ.