Mr. Wormwood, the Great Car Dealer

           Matilda’sparentsownedquiteanicehousewiththreebedroomsupstairs,whileonthegroundfloortherewasadining-roomandaliving-roomandakitchen. Herfatherwasadealerinsecond-handcarsanditseemedhedidprettywellatit. 

           "Sawdust",hewouldsayproudly,"isoneofthegreatsecretsofmysuccess. Anditcostsmenothing.Igetitfreefromthesawmill." 

           "Whatdoyouuseitfor? "Matildaaskedhim. "Ha! "thefathersaid. "Wouldn’tyouliketoknow." 

           "Idon’tseehowsawdustcanhelpyoutosellsecond-handcars,daddy." 

           "That’sbecauseyou’reanignorantlittletwit,"thefathersaid. HisspeechwasneververydelicatebutMatildawasusedtoit. Shealsoknewthathelikedtoboastandshewouldegghimonshamelessly. 

           "Youmustbeveryclevertofindauseforsomethingthatcostsnothing,"shesaid. "IwishIcoulddoit." 

           "Youcouldn’t,"thefathersaid. "You’retoostupid. ButIdon’tmindtellingyoungMikehereaboutitseeinghe’llbejoiningmeinthebusinessoneday." IgnoringMatilda,heturnedtohissonandsaid, "I’malwaysgladtobuyacarwhensomefoolhasbeencrashingthegearssobadlythey’reallwornoutandrattlelikemad. Igetitcheap.ThenallIdoismixalotofsawdustwiththeoilinthegear-boxanditrunsassweetasanut." 

           "Howlongwillitrunlikethatbeforeitstartsrattlingagain? "Matildaaskedhim. 

           "Longenoughforthebuyertogetagooddistanceaway,"thefathersaid,grinning. "Aboutahundredmiles." 

           "Butthat’sdishonest,daddy,"Matildasaid. "It’scheating."