Audiobook Demo - Warm, Soothing, Baritone, Calm sounding
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Middle Aged (35-54)Accents
US African AmericanTranscript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
Skillfully. Dan Carter dribbled the basketball down the Polis gymnasium floor with an easy toss of his right hand. He looped it neatly through the basket. Nice going. Dan approved Brad Wilbur, the Din Chief who directed the cub scout practice. The five boys. All members of Din two were practicing in the basement of First Methodist church. Now, after a brisk half hour workout, they were ready to adjourn in the upstairs club room for their weekly business session. Dan tossed the ball to midge Holloway who passed it to Red Sewell. The latter shot a fast one to chips Davis who fumbled, he awkwardly recovered the ball but in attempting a basket missed it by several inches. Butterfingers. Butterfingers mocked the voice from the basement window. The Cubs had not realized that they were being watched, turning quickly toward the wall behind them. They saw several boyish and jeering faces pressed against the rain streaked pains. Pat Oswald and his gang, Brad instantly recognized them. Don't pay any attention acting on the Den Chiefs suggestion. The Cubs tried to ignore the boys at the window, but it was quite impossible, nervous because he knew he was being watched Dan tried a long shot from mid floor and missed the basket again. Pat and his followers hooted. Look at him. One of the tormentors yelled, why even a girl could do better than that. Dan could not endure the taunt. He walked over to the window. Oh, yeah, he demanded. I suppose you're so good. You never miss dead eye pat. That's my name. The older boy boasted. Come on, guys, let's show him boldly. He pushed open the window which swung on hinges before the cubs could stop him. Pat, shoved his muscular torso through the opening and leaped down onto the gymnasium floor behind him. Like so many spry grasshoppers came three of his cronies. The boys ranged in age from 7 to 11 years, but all were gangling and oversized. Hey, you Red Sewell, cried furiously. Get out of here. You got no business coming in. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Mocked Pat. He gave red a hard shove, deliberately tearing the basketball from his grasp. Come on, fellows. He urged his gang. Let's show these babies how to play ball. He dribbled beneath the basket without appearing to take aim. He carelessly hooked the ball up toward the netting neatly. It swished through despite their annoyance, the cubs were impressed Pat was plenty good. No argument about that. His flashy skills so amazed them that they did not try to recover the ball. One of the invaders snatched and passed it back to Pat from that moment. It became a teasing tormenting game of keep it away from the cubs. You've no right to come in here and break up our practice chips. Davis accused hotly give me that ball. He rushed in to ****** it pat with jeering laughter. Passed it on to another boy in his group. Give us our ball chips. Shouted again if you don't hand it over. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Mocked pat. Here it is. Baby. He heaved the ball with terrific force. It struck the surprise chips in the pit of his stomach. Doubling him over at this moment, Sam Hatfield, the cub master appeared in the gymnasium doorway. The athletic coach and leader in the citywide pack had a knack of getting on. Well with all types of boys. Now, as if he had noted nothing amiss. He commented cheerfully. Well, well, I see we have some new recruits today. Recruits. Nothing snorted. Midge Holloway. These hoodlums are trying to take over the gym. That's what uh we were only having a little fun. Pat growled already. He was edging toward the door. Come on, fellows. Let's scram. As quickly as they had come, the intruders were gone. Mr Hatfield waited until the door had slammed behind them and then asked Brad about the youngsters that was Pat Oswald and his bunch from Al Bay Shore Roadway. The Den Chief replied, they're always making trouble. The cub master offered no comment except to remind the Cubs that it was time for the meeting to start.