He took a key from his pocket, and unlocked the door, and flung it
open... and suddenly... at the sound of the door opening, all the rows of
little square sweets looked quickly round to see who was coming in. The
tiny faces actually turned towards the door and stared at Mr Wonka.
‘There you are!’ he cried triumphantly. ‘They’re looking round!
There’s no argument about it! They are square sweets that look round!’
‘By golly, he’s right!’ said Grandpa Joe.
‘Come on!’ said Mr Wonka, starting off down the corridor again. ‘On
we go! We mustn’t dawdle!’
BUTTERSCOTCH AND BUTTERGIN, it said on the next door they
passed.
‘Now that sounds a bit more interesting,’ said Mr Salt, Veruca’s father.
‘Glorious stuff!’ said Mr Wonka. ‘The Oompa-Loompas all adore it. It
makes them tiddly. Listen! You can hear them in there now, whooping it
up.’
Shrieks of laughter and snatches of singing could be heard coming
through the closed door.
‘They’re drunk as lords,’ said Mr Wonka. ‘They’re drinking
butterscotch and soda. They like that best of all. Buttergin and tonic is
also very popular. Follow me, please! We really mustn’t keep stopping
like this.’ He turned left. He turned right. They came to a long flight of
stairs. Mr Wonka slid down the banisters. The three children did the
same. Mrs Salt and Mrs Teavee, the only women now left in the party,
were getting very out of breath. Mrs Salt was a great fat creature with
short legs, and she was blowing like a rhinoceros. ‘This way!’ cried Mr