text_original: Next he lost his hat, the poor old fellow, yet would not stop to pick it up, even though the rain was beating upon his head, and a wind was rising and the sleet kept stinging and lashing his face.
text_transcription: NEXT HE LOST HIS HAT THE POOR OLD FELLOW YET WOULD NOT STOP TO PICK IT UP EVEN THOUGH THE RAIN WAS BEATING UPON HIS HEAD AND THE WIND WAS RISING AND THE SLEET KEPT STINGING AND LASHING HIS FACE
phonemes: nˈɛkst hiː lˈɔst hɪz hˈæt, ðə pˈʊɹ ˈoʊld fˈɛloʊ, jˈɛt wʊd nˌɑːt stˈɑːp tə pˈɪk ɪɾ ˈʌp, ˈiːvən ðˌoʊ ðə ɹˈeɪn wʌz bˈiːɾɪŋ əpˌɑːn hɪz hˈɛd, ænd ɐ wˈɪnd wʌz ɹˈaɪzɪŋ ænd ðə slˈiːt kˈɛpt stˈɪŋɪŋ ænd lˈæʃɪŋ hɪz fˈeɪs.