Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off - then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 6267 | 2019-05-27 15:28:07 | 77.17 | 95% |
| 6240 | 2019-05-27 13:43:49 | 78.29 | 95% |
| 6073 | 2019-05-24 23:22:28 | 80.53 | 96% |