by Roald Dahl
‘Augustus!’ shouted Mrs Gloop. ‘You’ll be giving that nasty cold of yours to about a million people all over the country!’
‘Be careful, Augustus!’ shouted Mr Gloop. ‘You’re leaning too far out!’
Mr Gloop was absolutely right. For suddenly there was a shriek, and then a splash, and into the river went Augustus Gloop, and in one second he had disappeared under the brown surface.
‘Save him!’ screamed Mrs Gloop, going white in the face, and waving her umbrella about. ‘He’ll drown! He can’t swim a yard! Save him! Save him!’
‘Good heavens, woman,’ said Mr Gloop, ‘I’m not diving in there! I’ve got my best suit on!’
Augustus Gloop’s face came up again to the surface, painted brown with chocolate. ‘Help! Help! Help!’ he yelled. ‘Fish me out!’
‘Don’t just stand there!’ Mrs Gloop screamed at Mr Gloop. ‘Do something!’
‘I am doing something!’ said Mr Gloop, who was now taking off his jacket and getting ready to dive into the chocolate. But while he was doing this, the wretched boy was being sucked closer and closer towards the mouth of one of the great pipes that was dangling down into the river. Then all at once, the powerful suction took hold of him completely, and he was pulled under the surface and then into the mouth of the pipe.
The crowd on the riverbank waited breathlessly to see where he would come out.
‘There he goes!’ somebody shouted, pointing upwards.
And sure enough, because the pipe was made of glass, Augustus Gloop could be clearly seen shooting up inside it, head first, like a torpedo.
‘Help! Murder! Police!’ screamed Mrs Gloop. ‘Augustus, come back at once! Where are you going?’
‘It’s a wonder to me,’ said Mr Gloop, ‘how that pipe is big enough for him to go through it.’
‘It isn’t big enough!’ said Charlie Bucket. ‘Oh dear, look! He’s slowing down!’
‘So he is!’ said Grandpa Joe.
‘He’s going to stick!’ said Charlie.
‘I think he is!’ said Grandpa Joe.
‘By golly, he has stuck!’ said Charlie.
‘It’s his stomach that’s done it!’ said Mr Gloop.
‘He’s blocked the whole pipe!’ said Grandpa Joe.
‘Smash the pipe!’ yelled Mrs Gloop, still waving her umbrella. ‘Augustus, come out of there at once!’
The watchers below could see the chocolate swishing around the boy in the pipe, and they could see it building up behind him in a solid mass, pushing against the blockage. The pressure was terrific. Something had to give. Something did give, and that something was Augustus. WHOOF! Up he shot again like a bullet in the barrel of a gun.
‘He’s disappeared!’ yelled Mrs Gloop. ‘Where does that pipe go to? Quick! Call the fire brigade!’
‘Keep calm!’ cried Mr Wonka. ‘Keep calm, my dear lady, keep calm. There is no danger! No danger whatsoever! Augustus has gone on a little journey, that’s all. A most interesting little journey. But he’ll come out of it just fine, you wait and see.’
‘How can he possibly come out just fine!’ snapped Mrs Gloop. ‘He’ll be made into marshmallows in five seconds!’
‘Impossible!’ cried Mr Wonka. ‘Unthinkable! Inconceivable! Absurd! He could never be made into marshmallows!’
‘And why not, may I ask?’ shouted Mrs Gloop.
‘Because that pipe doesn’t go anywhere near it! That pipe – the one Augustus went up happens to lead directly to the room where I make a most delicious kind of strawberry-flavoured chocolate-coated fudge…’
‘Then he’ll be made into strawberry-flavoured chocolate-coated fudge!’ screamed Mrs Gloop. ‘My poor Augustus! They’ll be selling him by the pound all over the country tomorrow morning!’
‘Quite right,’ said Mr Gloop.
‘I know I’m right,’ said Mrs Gloop.
‘It’s beyond a joke,’ said Mr Gloop.
‘Mr Wonka doesn’t seem to think so!’ cried Mrs Gloop. ‘Just look at him! He’s laughing his head off! How dare you laugh like that when my boy’s just gone up the pipe! You monster!’ she shrieked, pointing her umbrella at Mr Wonka as though she were going to run him through. ‘You think it’s a joke, do you? You think that sucking my boy up into your Fudge Room like that is just one great big colossal joke?’
‘He’ll be perfectly safe,’ said Mr Wonka, giggling slightly.
‘He’ll be chocolate fudge!’ shrieked Mrs Gloop.
‘Never!’ cried Mr Wonka.
‘Of course he will!’ shrieked Mrs Gloop.
‘I wouldn’t allow it!’ cried Mr Wonka.
‘And why not?’ shrieked Mrs Gloop.
‘Because the taste would be terrible,’ said Mr Wonka. ‘Just imagine it! Augustus-flavoured chocolate-coated Gloop! No one would buy it.’
‘They most certainly would!’ cried Mr Gloop indignantly.
‘I don’t want to think about it!’ shrieked Mrs Gloop.
‘Nor do I,’ said Mr Wonka. ‘And I do promise you, madam, that your darling boy is perfectly safe.’
‘If he’s perfectly safe, then where is he?’ snapped Mrs Gloop. ‘Lead me to him this instant!’
Mr Wonka turned around and clicked his fingers sharply, click, click, click, three times. Immediately, an Oompa-Loompa appeared, as if from nowhere, and stood beside him.
The Oompa-Loompa bowed and smiled, showing beautiful white teeth. His skin was rosy-white, his long hair was golden-brown, and the top of his head came just above the height of Mr Wonka’s knee. He wore the usual deerskin slung over his shoulder.
‘Now listen to me!’ said Mr Wonka, looking down at the tiny man. ‘I want you to take Mr and Mrs Gloop up to the Fudge Room and help them to find their son, Augustus. He’s just gone up the pipe.’
The Oompa-Loompa took one look at Mrs Gloop and exploded into peals of laughter.
‘Oh, do be quiet!’ said Mr Wonka. ‘Control yourself! Pull yourself together! Mrs Gloop doesn’t think it’s at all funny!’
‘You can say that again!’ said Mrs Gloop.
‘Go straight to the Fudge Room,’ Mr Wonka said to the Oompa-Loompa, ‘and when you get there, take a long stick and start poking around inside the big chocolate-mixing barrel. I’m almost certain you’ll find him in there. But you’d better look sharp! You’ll have to hurry! If you leave him in the chocolate-mixing barrel too long, he’s liable to get poured out into the fudge boiler, and that really would be a disaster, wouldn’t it? My fudge would become quite uneatable!’
Mrs Gloop let out a shriek of fury.
‘I’m joking,’ said Mr Wonka, giggling madly behind his beard. ‘I didn’t mean it. Forgive me. I’m so sorry. Good-bye, Mrs Gloop! And Mr Gloop! Good-bye! I’ll see you later…’
As Mr and Mrs Gloop and their tiny escort hurried away, the five Oompa-Loompas on the far side of the river suddenly began hopping and dancing about and beating wildly upon a number of very small drums. ‘Augustus Gloop!’ they chanted. ‘Augustus Gloop! Augustus Gloop! Augustus Gloop!’
‘Grandpa!’ cried Charlie. ‘Listen to them, Grandpa! What are they doing?’
‘Ssshh!’ whispered Grandpa Joe. ‘I think they’re going to sing us a song!’
‘Augustus Gloop!’ chanted the Oompa-Loompas.
‘Augustus Gloop! Augustus Gloop!
The great big greedy nincompoop!
How long could we allow this beast
To gorge and guzzle, feed and feast
On everything he wanted to?
Great Scott! It simply wouldn’t do!
However long this pig might live,
We’re positive he’d never give
Even the smallest bit of fun
Or happiness to anyone.
So what we do in cases such
As this, we use the gentle touch,
And carefully we take the brat
And turn him into something that
Will give great pleasure to us all –
A doll, for instance, or a
ball,
Or marbles or a rocking horse.
But this revolting boy, of course,
Was so unutterably vile,
So greedy, foul, and infantile,
He left a most disgusting taste
Inside our mouths, and so in haste
We chose a thing that, come what may,
Would take the nasty taste away.
“Come on!” we cried. “The time is ripe
To send him shooting up the pipe!
He has to go! It has to be!”
And very soon, he’s going to see
Inside the room to which he’s gone
Some funny things are going on.
But don’t, dear children, be alarmed;
Augustus Gloop will not be harmed,
Although, of course, we must admit
He will be altered quite a bit.
He’ll be quite changed from what he’s been,
When he goes through the fudge machine:
Slowly, the wheels go round and round,
The cogs begin to grind and pound;
A hundred knives go slice, slice, slice;
We add some sugar, cream, and spice;
We boil him for a minute more,
Until we’re absolutely sure
That all the greed and all the gall
Is boiled away for once and all.
Then out he comes! And now! By grace!
A miracle has taken place!
This boy, who only just before
Was loathed by men from shore to shore,
This greedy brute, this louse’s ear,
Is loved by people everywhere!
For who could hate or bear a grudge
Against a luscious bit of fudge?’
‘I told you they loved singing!’ cried Mr Wonka. ‘Aren’t they delightful? Aren’t they charming? But you mustn’t believe a word they said. It’s all nonsense, every bit of it!’
‘Are the Oompa-Loompas really joking, Grandpa?’ asked Charlie.
‘Of course they’re joking,’ answered Grandpa Joe. ‘They must be joking. At least, I hope they’re joking. Don’t you?’
18
Down the Chocolate River
‘Off we go!’ cried Mr Wonka. ‘Hurry up, everybody! Follow me to the next room! And please don’t worry about Augustus Gloop. He’s bound to come out in the wash. They always do. We shall have to make the next part of the journey by boat! Here she comes! Look!’
A steamy mist was rising up now from the great warm chocolate river, and out of the mist there appeared suddenly a most fantastic pink boat. It was a large open row boat with a tall front and a tall back (like a Viking boat of old), and it was of such a shining sparkling glistening pink colour that the whole thing looked as though it were made of bright, pink glass. There were many oars on either side of it, and as the boat came closer, the watchers on the riverbank could see that the oars were being pulled by masses of Oompa-Loompas – at least ten of them to each oar.
‘This is my private yacht!’ cried Mr Wonka, beaming with pleasure. ‘I made her by hollowing out an enormous boiled sweet! Isn’t she beautiful! See how she comes cutting through the river!’
The gleaming pink boiled-sweet boat glided up to the riverbank. One hundred Oompa-Loompas rested on their oars and stared up at the visitors. Then suddenly, for some reason best known to themselves, they all burst into shrieks of laughter.
‘What’s so funny?’ asked Violet Beauregarde.
‘Oh, don’t worry about them!’ cried Mr Wonka. ‘They’re always laughing! They think everything’s a colossal joke! Jump into the boat, all of you! Come on! Hurry up!’
As soon as everyone was safely in, the Oompa-Loompas pushed the boat away from the bank and began to row swiftly downriver.
‘Hey, there! Mike Teavee!’ shouted Mr Wonka. ‘Please do not lick the boat with your tongue! It’ll only make it sticky!’
‘Daddy,’ said Veruca Salt, ‘I want a boat like this! I want you to buy me a big pink boiled-sweet boat exactly like Mr Wonka’s! And I want lots of Oompa-Loompas to row me about, and I want a chocolate river and I want… I want…‘
‘She wants a good kick in the pants,’ whispered Grandpa Joe to Charlie. The old man was sitting in the back of the boat and little Charlie Bucket was right beside him. Charlie was holding tightly on to his grandfather’s bony old hand. He was in a whirl of excitement. Everything that he had seen so far – the great chocolate river, the waterfall, the huge sucking pipes, the minty sugar meadows, the Oompa-Loompas, the beautiful pink boat, and most of all, Mr Willy Wonka himself – had been so astonishing that he began to wonder
whether there could possibly be any more astonishments left. Where were they going now? What were they going to see? And what in the world was going to happen in the next room?
‘Isn’t it marvellous?’ said Grandpa Joe, grinning at Charlie.
Charlie nodded and smiled up at the old man.
Suddenly, Mr Wonka, who was sitting on Charlie’s other side, reached down into the bottom of the boat, picked up a large mug, dipped it into the river, filled it with chocolate, and handed it to Charlie. ‘Drink this,’ he said. ‘It’ll do you good! You look starved to death!’
Then Mr Wonka filled a second mug and gave it to Grandpa Joe. ‘You, too,’ he said. ‘You look like a skeleton! What’s the matter? Hasn’t there been anything to eat in your house lately?’
‘Not much,’ said Grandpa Joe.
Charlie put the mug to his lips, and as the rich warm creamy chocolate ran down his throat into his empty tummy, his whole body from head to toe began to tingle with pleasure, and a feeling of intense happiness spread over him.
‘You like it?’ asked Mr Wonka.
‘Oh, it’s wonderful!’ Charlie said.
‘The creamiest loveliest chocolate I’ve ever tasted!’ said Grandpa Joe, smacking his lips.
‘That’s because it’s been mixed by waterfall,’ Mr Wonka told him.
The boat sped on down the river. The river was getting narrower. There was some kind of a dark tunnel ahead – a great round tunnel that looked like an enormous pipe – and the river was running right into the tunnel. And so was the boat! ‘Row on!’ shouted Mr Wonka, jumping up and waving his stick in the air. ‘Full speed ahead!’ And with the Oompa-Loompas rowing faster than ever, the boat shot into the pitch-dark tunnel, and all the passengers screamed with excitement.
‘How can they see where they’re going?’ shrieked Violet Beauregarde in the darkness.
‘There’s no knowing where they’re going!’ cried Mr Wonka, hooting with laughter.
‘ There’s no earthly way of knowing
Which direction they are going!
There’s no knowing where they’re rowing,
Or which way the river’s flowing!
Mot a speck of light is showing,
So the danger must be growing,
For the rowers keep on rowing,
And they’re certainly not showing
Any signs that they are slowing…’
‘He’s gone off his rocker!’ shouted one of the fathers, aghast, and the other parents joined in the chorus of frightened shouting. ‘He’s crazy!’ they shouted.
‘He’s balmy!’
‘He’s nutty!’
‘He’s screwy!’
‘He’s batty!’
‘He’s dippy!’
‘He’s dotty!’
‘He’s daffy!’
‘He’s goofy!’
‘He’s beany!’
‘He’s buggy!’
‘He’s wacky!’
‘He’s loony!’
‘No, he is not!’ said Grandpa Joe.
‘Switch on the lights!’ shouted Mr Wonka. And suddenly, on came the lights and the whole tunnel was brilliantly lit up, and Charlie could see that they were indeed inside a gigantic pipe, and the great upward-curving walls of the pipe were pure white and spotlessly clean. The river of chocolate was flowing very fast inside the pipe, and t
he Oompa-Loompas were all rowing like mad, and the boat was rocketing along at a furious pace. Mr Wonka was jumping up and down in the back of the boat and calling to the rowers to row faster and faster still. He seemed to love the sensation of whizzing through a white tunnel in a pink boat on a chocolate river, and he clapped his hands and laughed and kept glancing at his passengers to see if they were enjoying it as much as he.
‘Look, Grandpa!’ cried Charlie. ‘There’s a door in the wall!’ It was a green door and it was set into the wall of the tunnel just above the level of the river. As they flashed past it there was just enough time to read the writing on the door: STOREROOM NUMBER 54, it said. ALL THE CREAMS – DAIRY CREAM, WHIPPED CREAM, VIOLET CREAM, COFFEE CREAM, PINEAPPLE CREAM, VANILLA CREAM, AND HAIR CREAM.
‘Hair cream?’ cried Mike Teavee. ‘You don’t use hair cream?’
‘Row on!’ shouted Mr Wonka. ‘There’s no time to answer silly questions!’
They streaked past a black door. STOREROOM NUMBER 71, it said on it. WHIPS – ALL SHAPES AND SIZES.
‘Whips!’ cried Veruca Salt. ‘What on earth do you use whips for?’
‘For whipping cream, of course,’ said Mr Wonka. ‘How can you whip cream without whips? Whipped cream isn’t whipped cream at all unless it’s been whipped with whips. Just as a poached egg isn’t a poached egg unless it’s been stolen from the woods in the dead of night! Row on, please!’
They passed a yellow door on which it said: STOREROOM NUMBER 77 – ALL THE BEANS, CACAO BEANS, COFFEE BEANS, JELLY BEANS, AND HAS BEANS.
‘Has beans?’ cried Violet Beauregarde.
‘You’re one yourself!’ said Mr Wonka. ‘There’s no time for arguing! Press on, press on!’ But five seconds later, when a bright red door came into sight ahead, he suddenly waved his gold-topped cane in the air and shouted, ‘Stop the boat!’
19
The Inventing Room – Everlasting Gobstoppers and Hair Toffee
When Mr Wonka shouted ‘Stop the boat!’ the Oompa-Loompas jammed their oars into the river and backed water furiously. The boat stopped.
The Oompa-Loompas guided the boat alongside the red door. On the door it said, INVENTING ROOM – PRIVATE – KEEP OUT. Mr Wonka took a key from his pocket, leaned over the side of the boat, and put the key in the keyhole.