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