text_original: Half an hour after, an irate little man stormed in and stamped around among those prostrate men, flourishing a scrap of paper and calling for the writer. His air was that of the champion who The Old Theater. 311 wanted to see " the man who struck Billy Patterson," and Ills fierceness quite alarmed me, lest lie should step on some of the men. So I hurried to him, and was no little surprised to find that the offending mis  sive was my note. I told him I had written it, and could have had no thought of "reporting" him, since I knew nothing about him.
text_transcription: HALF AN HOUR AFTER AN IRATE LITTLE MAN STORMED IN AND STAMPED AROUND AMONG THESE PROSTRATE MEN FLOURISHING A SCRAP OF PAPER AND CALLING FOR THE WRITER HIS AIR WAS THAT OF THE CHAMPION WHO WANTED TO SEE THE MAN WHO STRUCK BILLY PATTERSON AND HIS FIERCENESS QUITE ALARMED ME LEST HE SHOULD STEP ON SOME OF THE MEN SO I HURRIED TO HIM AND WAS NO LITTLE SURPRISED TO FIND THAT THE OFFENDING MISSIVE WAS MY NOTE I TOLD HIM I HAD WRITTEN IT AND COULD HAVE HAD NO THOUGHT OF REPORTING HIM SINCE I KNEW NOTHING ABOUT HIM
phonemes: hˈæf ɐn ˈaʊɚɹ ˈæftɚ, ɐn aɪɹˈeɪt lˈɪɾəl mˈæn stˈɔːɹmd ɪn ænd stˈæmpt ɚɹˈaʊnd ɐmˌʌŋ ðoʊz pɹˈɑːstɹeɪt mˈɛn, flˈɜːɹɪʃɪŋ ɐ skɹˈæp ʌv pˈeɪpɚ ænd kˈɔːlɪŋ fɚðə ɹˈaɪɾɚ. hɪz ˈɛɹ wʌz ðæt ʌvðə tʃˈæmpiən hˌuː ðɪ ˈoʊld θˈiəɾɚ. θɹˈiːhˈʌndɹɪd ɪlˈɛvən wˈɔntᵻd tə sˈiː " ðə mˈæn hˌuː stɹˈʌk bˈɪli pˈæɾɚsən," ænd ˈɪlz fˈɪɹsnəs kwˈaɪt ɐlˈɑːɹmd mˌiː, lˈɛst lˈaɪ ʃˌʊd stˈɛp ˌɔn sˌʌm ʌvðə mˈɛn. sˌoʊ aɪ hˈɜːɹid tə hˌɪm, ænd wʌz nˈoʊ lˈɪɾəl sɚpɹˈaɪzd tə fˈaɪnd ðætðɪ əfˈɛndɪŋ mˈɪs sˈaɪv wʌz maɪ nˈoʊt. aɪ tˈoʊld hˌɪm aɪ hæd ɹˈɪʔn̩ ɪt, ænd kˌʊdɐv hæd nˈoʊ θˈɔːt ʌv "ɹᵻpˈɔːɹɾɪŋ" hˌɪm, sˈɪns aɪ nˈuː nˈʌθɪŋ ɐbˈaʊt hˌɪm.