text_original: "Just more of my precious luck, that's all, Nannie." He threw off the old box coat and heavy cap, brushed the melting snow from his hair and beard, and without waiting to warm his chilled hands at the fire, hobbled to the bed and bent over the woman and the tiny bundle. "Are you all right, Nan?" he asked anxiously.
text_transcription: JUST MORE MY PRECIOUS LUCK THAT'S ALL NANNY HE THREW OFF THE OLD BOX COAT AND HEAVY CAP BRUSHED THE MELTING SNOW FROM HIS HAIR AND BEARD AND WITHOUT WAITING TO WARM HIS CHILLED HANDS AT THE FIRE HOBBLED TO THE BED AND BENT OVER THE WOMAN IN THE TINY BUNDLE ARE YOU ALL RIGHT NAN HE ASKED ANXIOUSLY
phonemes: "dʒˈʌst mˈɔːɹ ʌv maɪ pɹˈɛʃəs lˈʌk, ðæts ˈɔːl, nˈæni." hiː θɹˈuː ˈɔf ðɪ ˈoʊld bˈɑːks kˈoʊt ænd hˈɛvi kˈæp, bɹˈʌʃt ðə mˈɛltɪŋ snˈoʊ fɹʌm hɪz hˈɛɹ ænd bˈɪɹd, ænd wɪðˌaʊt wˈeɪɾɪŋ tə wˈɔːɹm hɪz tʃˈɪld hˈændz æt ðə fˈaɪɚ, hˈɑːbəld tə ðə bˈɛd ænd bˈɛnt ˌoʊvɚ ðə wˈʊmən ænd ðə tˈaɪni bˈʌndəl. "ɑːɹ juː ˈɔːl ɹˈaɪt, nˈæn?" hiː ˈæskt ˈæŋʃəsli.