How dear to my heart are the scenes of my childhood, when fond recollection presents them to view! The orchard, the meadow, the deep-tangled wildwood, and every loved spot which my infancy knew; the wide-spreading pond, and the mill that stood by it, the bridge and the rock where the cataract fell; the cot of my father, the dairy-house nigh it, and e'en the rude bucket that hung in the well. The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, the moss-covered bucket that hung in the well.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 458024 | 2022-05-29 06:18:59 | 165.84 | 99% |
| 444114 | 2022-05-19 15:12:58 | 139.87 | 97% |
| 425023 | 2022-05-06 18:08:14 | 151.59 | 98% |
| 305332 | 2020-08-14 10:20:03 | 143.55 | 97% |
| 305331 | 2020-08-14 10:18:41 | 150.43 | 97% |
| 305299 | 2020-08-14 08:26:23 | 134.45 | 98% |
| 303736 | 2020-07-02 05:03:59 | 132.44 | 98% |
| 303735 | 2020-07-02 05:03:11 | 141.74 | 98% |
| 300481 | 2020-05-25 01:46:41 | 162.91 | 99% |