text_original: You may always know that there 's a boy at the bottom, when there 's any deviltry up. He was here yesterday, – now wa' n't he?" "Wal, I reckon he was," said Sol. "But, massy, Miss Sphyxy, ef the pigs is to be killed to day, we can't stan' a talkin' about what you nor me can't help.
text_transcription: YOU MAY ALWAYS KNOW THAT THERE'S A BOY AT THE BOTTOM WHEN THERE'S ANY DEVILTRY UP HE WAS HERE YESTERDAY NOW WON'T HE WELL I RECKON HE WAS SAID SOL BUT MASSY MISS FIXIA AFTER THE PIG'S TO BE KILLED TO DAY WE CAN'T STAND A TALKIN ABOUT WHAT YOU NOR ME CAN'T HELP
phonemes: juː mˈeɪ ˈɔːlweɪz nˈoʊ ðæt ðɛɹ ˈɛs ɐ bˈɔɪ æt ðə bˈɑːɾəm, wˌɛn ðɛɹ ˈɛs ˌɛni dˈɛvɪltɹi ˈʌp. hiː wʌz hˈɪɹ jˈɛstɚdˌeɪ, nˈaʊ wˈɑː ˈɛnt hiː?" "wˈæl, aɪ ɹˈɛkən hiː wʌz," sˈɛd sˈɑːl. "bˌʌt, mˈæsi, mˈɪs sfˈaɪksi, ˈɛf ðə pˈɪɡz ɪz təbi kˈɪld tə dˈeɪ, wiː kˈænt stˈæn ɐ tˈɔːkɪn ɐbˌaʊt wʌt juː nˈɔːɹ mˌiː kˈænt hˈɛlp.