text_original: These words were spoken by two horsemen muffled in brown cloaks, who early one morning were pursuing one of the many narrow, winding paths which run in every direction through the forest lying between Lakes Miosen and Sparbo.
text_transcription: THESE WORDS WERE SPOKEN BY TWO HORSEMEN MUFFLED IN BROWN CLOAKS WHO EARLY ONE MORNING WERE PURSUING ONE OF THE MANY NARROW WINDING PATHS WHICH RUN IN EVERY DIRECTION THROUGH THE FORESTS DYING BETWEEN LAKE SMIERSEN AND SPARBO
phonemes: ðiːz wˈɜːdz wɜː spˈoʊkən baɪ tˈuː hˈɔːɹsmɛn mˈʌfəld ɪn bɹˈaʊn klˈoʊks, hˌuː ˈɜːli wˈʌn mˈɔːɹnɪŋ wɜː pɚsˈuːɪŋ wˈʌn ʌvðə mˈɛni nˈæɹoʊ, wˈaɪndɪŋ pˈæθs wˌɪtʃ ɹˈʌn ɪn ˈɛvɹi dᵻɹˈɛkʃən θɹuː ðə fˈɔːɹɪst lˈaɪɪŋ bᵻtwˌiːn lˈeɪks mɪˈoʊsən ænd spˈɑːɹboʊ.