text_original: " Here you are at last, my dear Kennybol ! Come, let me present you to your much dreaded commander, Hans of Iceland." At this name, Kennybol, pale, breathless, his hair stand  ing on end, his face bathed in perspiration, and his hands stained with blood, started back.
text_transcription: HERE YOU ARE AT LAST MY DEAR CANNIBALL COME LET ME PRESENT YOU TO YOUR MUCH DREADED COMMANDER HANDS OF ICELAND AT THIS NAME CANNY BALL PALE BREATHLESS HIS HAIR STANDING ON END HIS FACE BATHED IN PERSPIRATION AND HIS HANDS STAINED WITH BLOOD STARTED BACK
phonemes: " hˈɪɹ juː ɑːɹ æt lˈæst, maɪ dˈɪɹ kˈɛnɪbˌɑːl ! kˈʌm, lˈɛt mˌiː pɹˈɛzənt juː tə jʊɹ mˈʌtʃ dɹˈɛdᵻd kəmˈændɚ, hˈænz ʌv ˈaɪslənd." æt ðɪs nˈeɪm, kˈɛnɪbˌɑːl, pˈeɪl, bɹˈɛθləs, hɪz hˈɛɹ stˈænd ˈɪŋ ˌɔn ˈɛnd, hɪz fˈeɪs bˈeɪðd ɪn pɚspɚɹˈeɪʃən, ænd hɪz hˈændz stˈeɪnd wɪð blˈʌd, stˈɑːɹɾᵻd bˈæk.