‘These squirrels are specially trained for getting the nuts out of walnuts,’ Mr Wonka explained.
‘Why use squirrels?’ Mike Teavee asked. ‘Why not use Oompa-Loompas?’
‘Because,’ said Mr Wonka, ‘Oompa-Loompas can’t get walnuts out of walnut shells in one piece. They always break them in two. Nobody except squirrels can get walnuts whole out of walnut shells every time. It is extremely difficult. But in my factory, I insist upon only whole walnuts. Therefore I have to have squirrels to do the job. Aren’t they wonderful, the way they get those nuts out! And see how they first tap each walnut with their knuckles to be sure it’s not a bad one! If it’s bad, it makes a hollow sound, and they don’t bother to open it. They just throw it down the rubbish chute. There! Look! Watch that squirrel nearest to us! I think he’s got a bad one now!’
They watched the little squirrel as he tapped the walnut shell with his knuckles. He cocked his head to one side, listening intently, then suddenly he threw the nut over his shoulder into a large hole in the floor.
‘Hey, Mummy!’ shouted Veruca Salt suddenly, ‘I’ve decided I want a squirrel! Get me one of those squirrels!’
‘Don’t be silly, sweetheart,’ said Mrs Salt. ‘These all belong to Mr Wonka.’
‘I don’t care about that!’ shouted Veruca. ‘I want one. All I’ve got at home is two dogs and four cats and six bunny rabbits and two parakeets and three canaries and a green parrot and a turtle and a bowl of goldfish and a cage of white mice and a silly old hamster! I want a squirrel!’
‘All right, my pet,’ Mrs Salt said soothingly. ‘Mummy’ll get you a squirrel just as soon as she possibly can.’
‘But I don’t want any old squirrel!’ Veruca shouted. ‘I want a trained squirrel!’
At this point, Mr Salt, Veruca’s father, stepped forward. ‘Very well, Wonka,’ he said importantly, taking out a wallet full of money, ‘how much d’you want for one of these squirrels? Name your price.’
‘They’re not for sale,’ Mr Wonka answered. ‘She can’t have one.’
‘Who says I can’t!’ shouted Veruca. ‘I’m going in to get myself one this very minute!’
‘Don’t!’ said Mr Wonka quickly, but he was too late. The girl had already thrown open the door and rushed in.
The moment she entered the room, one hundred squirrels stopped what they were doing and turned their heads and stared at her with small black beady eyes.
Veruca Salt stopped also, and stared back at them. Then her gaze fell upon a pretty little squirrel sitting nearest to her at the end of the table. The squirrel was holding a walnut in its paws.
‘All right,’ Veruca said, ‘I’ll have you!’
She reached out her hands to grab the squirrel . . . but as she did so . . . in that first split second when her hands started to go forward, there was a sudden flash of movement in the room, like a flash of brown lightning, and every single squirrel around the table took a flying leap towards her and landed on her body.
Twenty-five of them caught hold of her right arm, and pinned it down.
Twenty-five more caught hold of her left arm, and pinned that down.
Twenty-five caught hold of her right leg and anchored it to the ground.
Twenty-four caught hold of her left leg.
And the one remaining squirrel (obviously the leader of them all) climbed up on to her shoulder and started tap-tap-tapping the wretched girl’s head with its knuckles.
‘Save her!’ screamed Mrs Salt. ‘Veruca! Come back! What are they doing to her?’
‘They’re testing her to see if she’s a bad nut,’ said Mr Wonka. ‘You watch.’
Veruca struggled furiously, but the squirrels held her tight and she couldn’t move. The squirrel on her shoulder went tap-tap-tapping the side of her head with his knuckles.
Then all at once, the squirrels pulled Veruca to the ground and started carrying her across the floor.
‘My goodness, she is a bad nut after all,’ said Mr Wonka. ‘Her head must have sounded quite hollow.’
Veruca kicked and screamed, but it was no use. The tiny strong paws held her tightly and she couldn’t escape.