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 |
---|---|---|---|
7198 | 2020-11-14 01:15:14 | 123.89 | 98% |
2320 | 2020-08-29 02:44:53 | 107.49 | 97% |
1965 | 2020-08-18 21:03:49 | 106.48 | 97% |