text_original: " Oh!" groaned the sufferer, "what can she do?" " I don't know what she can do; an' slie don't know what she can do; but just you send for her! She'll come, and go to fussin' an' liuramin' about just like an old bumble bee, an' furst thing you know you won't Drop my Alias.
text_transcription: OH GROANED THE SUFFERER WHAT CAN SHE DO I DON'T KNOW WHAT SHE CAN DO AND SHE DON'T KNOW WHAT SHE CAN DO BUT JUST YOU SEND FOR HER SHE'LL COME AND GO TO FUSSING AND HUMMIN ABOUT YOU JUST LIKE AN OLD BUMBLEBEE AND FIRST THING YOU KNOW YOU WON'T KNOW NOTHIN FOR THE PAIN'LL B
phonemes: " ˈoʊ!" ɡɹˈoʊnd ðə sˈʌfɚɹɚ, "wˌʌt kæn ʃiː dˈuː?" " aɪ dˈoʊnt nˈoʊ wʌt ʃiː kæn dˈuː; æn slˈaɪ dˈoʊnt nˈoʊ wʌt ʃiː kæn dˈuː; bˌʌt dʒˈʌst juː sˈɛnd fɔːɹ hɜː! ʃiːl kˈʌm, ænd ɡˌoʊ tə fˈʌsɪn æn lˈɪjuːɹˌæmɪn ɐbˌaʊt dʒˈʌst lˈaɪk ɐn ˈoʊld bˈʌmbəl bˈiː, æn fˈɜːst θˈɪŋ juː nˈoʊ juː woʊnt dɹˈɑːp maɪ ˈeɪliəs.