text_original: " Good," said the brigand. 506 HANS OF 1CELAMD. " What are you aiming at, comrade ? " asked the jailer. " Oh, nothing," replied the brigand. " Farewell, comrade, until to morrow morning early."
text_transcription: SAID THE BRIGAND WHAT ARE YOU AIMING AT COMRADE ASKED THE JAILER NOTHING REPLIED THE BRIGAND FAREWELL COMRADE UNTIL TO MORROW MORNING EARLY
phonemes: " ɡˈʊd," sˈɛd ðə bɹˈɪɡænd. fˈaɪvhˈʌndɹɪd sˈɪks hˈænz ʌv wˈʌn sˈɛlɐmdˌiː. " wˌʌt ɑːɹ juː ˈeɪmɪŋ æt, kˈɑːmɹæd ? " ˈæskt ðə dʒˈeɪlɚ. " ˈoʊ, nˈʌθɪŋ," ɹᵻplˈaɪd ðə bɹˈɪɡænd. " fɛɹwˈɛl, kˈɑːmɹæd, ʌntˈɪl tə mˈɑːɹoʊ mˈɔːɹnɪŋ ˈɜːli."