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'Ssshhh!' said Mr Wonka. 'Listen!'
'Dear friends!' said the well-known Presidential voice over the loudspeaker. 'Dear, dear friends! Welcome to Space Hotel "U.S.A." Greetings to the brave astronauts from Mars and Venus...'
'Mars and Venus!' whispered Charlie. 'You mean he thinks we're from...'
'Ssshh-ssshh-ssshh!' said Mr Wonka. He was doubled up with silent laughter, shaking all over and hopping from one foot to the other.
'You have come a long way,' the President continued, 'so why don't you come just a tiny bit farther and pay us a visit down here on our humble little Earth? I invite all eight of you to stay with me here in Washington as my honoured guests. You could land that wonderful glass air-machine of yours on the lawn in back of the White House. We shall have the red carpet out and ready. I do hope you know enough of our language to understand me. I shall wait most anxiously for your reply...'
There was a click and the President went off the air.
'What a fantastic thing!' whispered Grandpa Joe. 'The White House, Charlie! We're invited to the White House as honoured guests!'
Charlie caught hold of Grandpa Joe's hands and the two of them started dancing round and round the lobby of the hotel. Mr Wonka, still shaking with laughter, went and sat down on the bed and signalled everyone to gather round close so they could whisper without being heard by the hidden microphones.
'They're scared to death,' he whispered. 'They won't bother us any more now. So let's have that feast we were talking about and afterwards we can explore the hotel.'
'Aren't we going to the White House?' whispered Grandma Josephine. 'I want to go to the White House and stay with the President.'
'My dear old dotty dumpling,' said Mr Wonka. 'You look as much like a man from Mars as a bedbug! They'd know at once they'd been fooled. We'd be arrested before we could say how d'you do.'
Mr Wonka was right. There could be no question of accepting the President's invitation and they all knew it.
'But we've got to say something to him,' Charlie whispered. 'He must be sitting down there in the White House this very minute waiting for an answer.'
'Make an excuse,' said Mr Bucket.
'Tell him we're otherwise engaged,' said Mrs Bucket.
'You are right,' whispered Mr Wonka. 'It is rude to ignore an invitation.' He stood up and walked a few paces from the group. For a moment or two he remained quite still, gathering his thoughts. Then once again Charlie saw those tiny twinkling smiling wrinkles around the corners of the eyes, and when he began to speak, his voice this time was like the voice of a giant, deep and devilish, very loud and very slow:
'In the quelchy quaggy sogmire,
In the mashy mideous harshland,
At the witchy hour of gloomness,
All the grobes come oozing home.
You can hear them softly slimeing,
Glissing hissing o'er the slubber,
All those oily boily bodies
Oozing onward in the gloam.
So start to run! Oh, skid and daddle
Through the slubber slush and sossel!
Skip jump hop and try to skaddle!
All the grobes are on the roam!'
In his study two hundred and forty thousand miles below, the President turned white as the White House. 'Jumping jack-rabbits!' he cried. 'I think they're after us!'
'Oh, please let me blow them up!' said the Ex-Chief of the Army.
