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Updated: May 6, 2025
"I'm Fate, I am!" nodded the Old Un. "Persooin' Fate, that's me." "What yer here for, anyway?" enquired the lad, humble in his abasement. "I'm here to persoo!" "Say, now, what's your game; what yer want?" "I want you, me lad." "Well, say beat it, please I want t' be alone." "Not much, me lad. I'm Fate, I am, an' when Fate comes up agin murder, Fate ain't t' be shook off." "Murder!" gasped Spike.
De tale ain't persoo on atter um no furder dan de place whar dey make der disappear'nce. I tell you now, when I goes in de woods, I got ter know whar I'm gwine." "Heyo, House" One evening Uncle Remus was telling the little boy a mighty tale of how Brer Rabbit got the better of ole Brer Lion.
An', Guv, I only ax because your 'appiness an' 'ers is mine s' 'elp me!" "How if it's the other way about, Old Un? Suppose she avoids me?" "Why lumme, Guv! 'T is a sure sign she needs persoot. Remember this: "'Im as would lovely woman woo 'E lovely woman must persoo, For if 'e don't, 't is plain as plain That feller 'e will woo in vain.
Dish yer pie," Uncle Remus continued, holding it up and measuring it with an experienced eye, "will gimme strenk fer ter persoo on atter Brer Fox en Brer Rabbit en de udder creeturs w'at dey roped in 'long wid um." Here the old man paused, and proceeded to demolish the pie a feat accomplished in a very short time.
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