"
The boy spoke in the slow, measured tones of one who had told the
tale many times before and was quite accustomed to his task.
Bob glanced at Van.
Their respect for the lad was rising.
"How much does one of these kettles hold?" Bob asked.
"About six hundred pounds."
"And you fill all of them every day?" demanded Van in astonishment.
"Several times over," was the answer. "It takes a lot of this ground
material for the different kinds; some of it has other ingredients
mixed with it later, and some is beaten, flavored, and colored for
the fillings of chocolates."
"But who on earth eats so much candy?" ejaculated Bob.
"I don't know," responded the boy wearily. "I'm sure I don't."
"What?"
"I don't believe I'd touch a piece of candy for a hundred dollars,"
he continued. "I am sick of the sight of it. Candy from morning to
night--candy, candy, candy! Candy everywhere! Nothing but candy."
Bob and Van eyed him unbelievingly.
Could a boy be human and feel that way?
"Everybody here gets into the same state of mind," the lad went on.
"When the green hands come they are crazy about the stuff for about
a couple of days; then it is all over. You couldn't hire them to
eat. Every few weeks the different employees are allowed to buy two
pounds for themselves at the wholesale price, but you would be
surprised to see how few of them do it. If they get it you can be
pretty certain that it is to give away, for they'd never eat it
themselves.
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