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 |
---|---|---|---|
24779 | 2023-01-17 06:41:31 | 215.88 | 100% |
6984 | 2020-10-28 17:34:41 | 172.67 | 99% |
6983 | 2020-10-28 17:33:13 | 166.61 | 99% |
3708 | 2020-08-29 02:44:40 | 144.24 | 98% |