When the horse strokes the cat, the wood begins to sing. | Thinkmad.in

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When the horse strokes the cat, the wood begins to sing.

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I am born in fear, raised in truth, and I come to my own in deed. When comes a time that I’m called forth, I come to serve the cause of need. What am I?

Born in the past, but only lives in the present. Sometimes false, always personal.

Why should you never tell a secret at a farm?

I can be new or old. I am of different types. I am of so many different types that every child can find one of me that they like. I contain links to countless worlds. All people like me, young or old. I can be used in someone’s spare time. Although most parents ban me, I am usually the center of attention of any child. What am I?

What treat is never on time?

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