JS online typing exercises

JS online typing exercises! Is it very nostalgic! Haha!

Three passionsMother & Child1Mother & child2Mother & Child3Days when the wind blowsBack

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Time: 0 Three passions, simple but overwhelmingly strong, have governed my life: the longing for love, the search for knowledge, and unbearable pity for the suffering of mankind. these passions, like great winds, have blown me hither and thither, In a wayward course, over a deep ocean of anguish, reaching to the very verge of despair. <br/> I have sought love, first, because it brings ecstasy-ecstasy so great that I wowould often have sacriiced all the rest of life for a few hours of this joy. I have sought it, next, because it relieves loneliness -- that terrible loneliness in which one shivering consciousness looks over the rim of the world into the cold unfathomable lifeless abyss. I have sought it, finally, because in the union of love I have seen, in a mystic miniature, the prefiguring vision of the heaven that saints and poets have imagined. this is what I sought, and though it might seem too good for human life, this is what-at last-I have found. <br/><Textarea id = "txten2"> it was Christmas 1961. I was teaching in a small town in Ohio where my twenty-seven third graders eagerly anticipated the great day of gifts giving. <br/> A tree covered with tinsel and gaudy paper chains graced one corner. in another rested a manger scene produced from cardboard and poster paints by chubby, and sometimes grubby, hands. someone had brought a doll and placed it On the straw in the cardboard box that served as the manger. it didn't matter that you coshould pull a string and hear the blue-eyed, golden-haired Dolly say, "My name is Susie. "" But Jesus was a boy baby! "One of the boys proclaimed. Nonetheless, Susie stayed. <br/> </textarea>Each day the children produced some new wonder -- strings of popcorn, hand-made trinkets, and German Bells made from wallpaper samples, which we hung from the ceiling. through it all she remained aloof, watching from afar, seemingly miles away. I wondered what wowould happen to this quiet child, once so happy, now so suddenly withdrawn. I Have ed the festivities wocould appeal to her. but nothing did. we made cards and gifts for mothers and dads, for sisters and brothers, for grandparents, and for each other. at home the students made the popular fried marbles and vied with one another to bring in the prettiest ones. "You put them in a hot frying pan, teacher. and you let them get real hot, and then you watch what happens inside. but you don't fry them too long or they break. "So, as my gift to them, I made each of my students a little pouch for carrying their fried marbles. and I knew they had each made something for me: bookmarks shortcut, colored, and sometimes pasted together; cards and special drawings; liquid embroidery doilies, hand-fringed, of Se. <br/>After school the children left in little groups, chattering about the great day yet to come when long-received ed-for two-wheelers and bright sleds wowould appear beside their trees at home. she lingered, watching them bundle up and go out the door. I sat down in a child-sized chair to catch my breath, hardly aware of what was happening, when she came to me with outstretched hands, bearing a small white Bo X, unwrapped and slightly soiled, as though it had been held times by unsiged, childish hands. She said nothing. "for me? "I asked with a weak smile. she said not a word, but nodded her head. I took the box and gingerly opened it. there inside, glistening green, a fried marble hung from a golden chain. then I looked into that elderly eight-year-old face and saw the question in her dark brown eyes. in a flash I knew -- she had made it for her mother, a mother she wowould never see again, a mother who wowould never hold her or brush her hair or share a funny story, A mother who wowould never again hear her childish joys or sorrows. A mother who had taken her own life just three weeks before. <br/>Please allow me to bury my 19-year-old in innocence and childishness, and allow me to leave a broken mind. <Br/> I have been on the cloud for a long time. It hurts me to take the college entrance examination! <Br/> the kite is flying very close to the sky. You must catch it and don't let it get lost. I'm afraid it will roll up the sand in the wind and fly into my eyes. The college entrance examination was an accident, and I didn't grasp it. <Br/> remember to send friends to study abroad at the railway station clearly. At that time, I did not cry. <Br/> as soon as I turned around, I saw my loneliness in a twinkling of an eye. I looked at the flowers of the Moon and the moon outside the window, and the flowers of the second year of the second month fell again in. I looked at the birds flying tired and rested in the branches for a moment and then disappeared into the cloud. I was lost when I went east or west; there are still people chatting downstairs. I stubbornly ignore the meaning of the gossip that only one train passes by that day. Loneliness has become a long term in my life. I can't get rid of it and let it tear up my weakness. <Br/> in an open and high-distance place, I calmly and absolutely told myself that only the Wind and Cloud have been following me. loneliness will always be left for the thinker and the white discard. in "our distant youth. I caught up with Li ran's sorrow and saw Li ran's stunned eyes. Fortunately, he is not alone. This is the only difference between him and me. <Br/> in the fall, loneliness came fast, and he left me no room to hide. I was caught off guard. <Br/> I walked back step by step with the moon, and the autumn wind felt lonely on my face. It is hard to bear the loneliness, especially the long night of loneliness: Looking down on the busy streets, the lights are shining on the bright streets. After a long time, the lights start to become sparse, people are tired and hiding in the house. I am sure they are afraid of the dark. Silence! So the insects were logging into the sink. I don't know when I had the pen abandoned by the College Entrance Examination for several months. People say that words can record time, but it can also record sorrow and look forward to the future. <Br/> I tried to climb the Previous cloud. The cloud that I fell down on is still windy, and the strength of the wind seems to be strengthened. I am used to the wind, used to the wind and climbed up again, it is July March. <Br/> the time-consuming films easily hit my weak nerves, making my senses unable to respond, my mouth dry, and my nerves feel the pain of being lost. <Br/> when the autumn leaves the branches, and the geese have left the cold north to the south to find their residences, I began to become confused. Because I have been in the lonely world for too long. I bravely jumped down from the cloud that accompanied me for several months. I never thought that I would break a leg or a hand. I just wanted to jump down. Because I'm tired of that wind and tired of that wind blowing me from here to the end. <Br/> When Spider's Web has ruthlessly closed up my hearth, <br/> when the smoke from the ashes sighs the sorrow of poverty; <br/> I still stubbornly flat the ashes of disappointment. <br/> write down the beautiful snowflake: believe in the future. <Br/> the wind rolled up the sand and flew into my eyes. One cry is three months. But today I am very happy. It is my pleasure to get rid of the Wind and Cloud. Just after those days when the wind blows. <Br/> The Wind slowly blew the cloud to the west until it fell to the end of the hill.<Textarea id = "txtch2"> my father and I have not met each other for more than two years. The last thing I can forget is his background. <Br/> in the winter of that year, my grandmother died, and my father's bad fortune was lost. I plan to go home with my father from Beijing to Xuzhou. When I saw my father in Xuzhou and saw the wolf in the courtyard, I remembered my grandmother and couldn't help but shed tears. My father said, "This is already the case. You don't have to worry about it. Fortunately, there is no path to death !" <Br/> my father went home to become a seller, lost money, and lent money to complete the funeral. In these days, the light scene in the family is bleak, half for funeral, half for the leisure of the father. After the funeral is over, my father will go to Nanjing to seek advice. I will go back to Beijing to study, and we will walk with me. <Br/> when you arrived in Nanjing, a friend made a visit and stayed for one day. On the morning of the next day, you had to cross the river to pukou and get on the bus to the north in the afternoon. My father told me that he would not send me because he was busy. He told me to accompany me with a well-known Tea House in the hotel. He repeatedly told the tea room carefully. But he still (finally) was not at ease, afraid that the tea room would not be appropriate, and hesitated for a while. As a matter of fact, I was 20 years old and had been in Beijing for two or three times. It doesn't matter. After a while, he finally decided to let me go. I tried to persuade him not to go two or three times. He only said, "It doesn't matter. They can't go well! "! <Br/> we crossed the river and entered the station. I bought a ticket. He was busy taking care of his luggage. There are too many luggage. You have to tip your husband to pass. He was busy talking to them about the price. I was so intelligent that I always felt that he was not very beautiful, and he could not intercept himself. But he finally decided to get me on the bus. He picked a chair by the door for me, and I laid the seats with his purple coat. He told me to be careful on the road. He should watch out at night and avoid getting cold. I also asked the tea room to take care of me. I smiled at his secret in my heart; they only recognize the money, and it is white to keep them straight (true! In addition, can't I cook myself as a person of my age? Alas, I think about it now. It was so clever! <Br/> </textarea><textarea id="txtInput" style="word-break: break-all; word-wrap: break-word; width: 780px; word-spacing: normal; letter-spacing: 0px; margin: 0px; border: none; padding: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; left: 0px; padding-top: 28px; height: 500px; overflow-y: hidden; background-color: black; color: white; line-height: 60px; font-family: Consolas; font-size: 24px;" onkeyup="changeText();" disabled></textarea>

Passed the test in IE8 and chrome! There should be bugs, but they can already be used!

There are many differences between IE and chrome in character processing, and many problems are found during production. It will end tomorrow! Sleeping!

Single file download: http://files.cnblogs.com/zjfree/JPLX2.rar

Another online fingering exercise [old version]

Amendment

• Performance Optimization (merge adjacent spans of the same color into one)
• "-" Character (two characters are calculated when "-" is entered)

PS: The select element in the blog editor cannot be added to the onchange event. You can only use the onclick event! Khan!