text_original: The poor mother loved her son, ungrateful as lie was. And how could she help loving him, she had suffered so much for him ? She rose and took from an antique wardrobe a crucifix thickly coated with dust.
text_transcription: THE POOR MOTHER LOVED HER SON UNGRATEFUL AS HE WAS AND HOW COULD SHE HELP LOVING HIM SHE HAD SUFFERED SO MUCH FOR HIM SHE ROSE AND TOOK FROM AN ANTIQUE WARDROBE A CRUCIFIX SICKLY COATED WITH DUST
phonemes: ðə pˈʊɹ mˈʌðɚ lˈʌvd hɜː sˈʌn, ʌŋɡɹˈeɪtfəl æz lˈaɪ wʌz. ænd hˌaʊ kʊd ʃiː hˈɛlp lˈʌvɪŋ hˌɪm, ʃiː hæd sˈʌfɚd sˈoʊ mˌʌtʃ fɔːɹ hˌɪm ? ʃiː ɹˈoʊz ænd tˈʊk fɹʌm ɐn æntˈiːk wˈɔːɹdɹoʊb ɐ kɹˈuːsɪfˌɪks θˈɪkli kˈoʊɾᵻd wɪð dˈʌst.