A long time ago, they moved the little kid works into our town, and although he had no experience assembling little kids, Jeremy Jones wanted to work at the new factory. They hired him and he began to learn how it was done.
Putting the little girls together is pretty easy, and so they started Jeremy at the sugar station along the little girl assembly line, which is a big, pink conveyor belt, kind of like one of those escalators in the mall, only flat.
One by one, as little girls who were only partly put together rode the belt past him, Jeremy would reach into one of three big tubs and scoop up as much sugar as he could and dump it onto the half-finished girl. Sometimes the sugar was brown and sometimes it was white and sometimes it was sort of in between; it didn't really matter 'cause the girls were all just as sweet as could be.
After quite a time at the sugar station, Jeremy was promoted to spice. Now, instead of a simple choice between two or three sugars, he had to choose among many, many spices. Some were hot, some were tangy, some smelled of secret gardens, some made his nose wrinkle up, some made his mouth pucker as if he was going to kiss someone, and some just made him sneeze. There are many interesting combinations in spices, which is why little girls are so very different from one another and so very likely to surprise you. Some make you want to run away and hide. Some make you want to pucker up and kiss. Some just make you sneeze.
Well, after a while, when Jeremy had become a good spicer on the little girl assembly line, he was promoted once again, this time to the little boy line. Wow, what a difference! None of the people working on the line could agree about the ingredients. They all went along with the snails and the puppy-dog tails, but they argued about the third ingredient. Some said it was frogs. Some said snips. Some said snaps.
So they tried frogs for a while, but the frogs ate the snails, and the little boys who were finished that way were pretty jumpy and tended to croak a lot.
Then they tried snips, but the question was, snips of what? They tried the sweepings from under a barber's chair, and all the little boys turned out that day were hairy all over, like little monkeys. They tried the snips from under a tailor's sewing machine, and all the little boys turned out that day were skinny like thread and wrinkled like an unironed shirt and creased like a pair of pants, with cuffs for ears.
Finally, Jeremy, who by this time was a very experienced assembler of little girls and little boys, said, "Frogs don't work, snips don't work. Let's try snaps."
They tried the kind of snaps that fasten two pieces of cloth together, and all the little boys turned out that day were silent, wouldn't open their mouths for anything.
So then they tried a whole lot of very easy things, things everybody said were a real snap. Not very good results.
And then it occurred to Jeremy: "What we need are ginger
snaps!" he said. And he was right. The little boys who were made
of snails and puppy-dog tails and ginger snaps were full of life.
A little mischievous, perhaps, a little slippery from the snails,
a little wiggly from the puppy-dog tails, but there was no doubt about
how gingery they were, which is just what you want in little boys.