The next morning, dhondu's mind was not on the job. Clothes kept falling off his back and his legs kept leading him to the cucumber garden. Dhondu, where are you going? the washerman screamed. The washerman could not understand what had come over his loyal donkey. Has this fellow grown so old? the washerman wondered. 
ðʌ nɛkst mɔɹnɪŋ, 'ɛs maɪnd wɑz nɑt ɑn ðʌ dʒɑb. kloʊðz kɛpt fɑlɪŋ ɔf hɪz bæk ʌnd hɪz lɛɡz kɛpt lidɪŋ hɪm tu ðʌ kjukʌmbɜ˞ ɡɑɹdʌn. , wɛɹ ɑɹ ju ɡoʊɪŋ? ðʌ  skɹimd. ðʌ  kʊd nɑt ʌndɜ˞stænd wʌt hæd kʌm oʊvɜ˞ hɪz lɔɪʌl dɑŋki. hæz ðɪs fɛloʊ ɡɹoʊn soʊ oʊld? ðʌ  wʌndɜ˞d. 
 Indian's voice is very clear in this recording, with a monotone tone that is slightly slower than usual. The close proximity of the microphone to the speaker results in a very intimate and clear sound.