Charlie’s Birthday

           ’Happybirthday!’criedthefouroldgrandparents,asCharliecameintotheirroomearlythenextmorning. 

           Charliesmilednervouslyandsatdownontheedgeofthebed.Hewasholdinghispresent,hisonlypresent,verycarefullyinhistwohands.WONKA’SWHIPPLE-SCRUMPTIOUSFUDGEMALLOWDELIGHT,itsaidonthewrapper. 

           Thefouroldpeople,twoateitherendofthebed,proppedthemselvesupontheirpillowsandstaredwithanxiouseyesatthebarofchocolateinCharlie’shands. 

           MrandMrsBucketcameinandstoodatthefootofthebed,watchingCharlie. 

           Theroombecamesilent.EverybodywaswaitingnowforCharlietostartopeninghispresent.Charlielookeddownatthebarofchocolate.Heranhisfingersslowlybackandforthalongthelengthofit,strokingitlovingly,andtheshinypaperwrappermadelittlesharpcracklynoisesinthequietroom. 

           ThenMrsBucketsaidgently,’Youmustn’tbetoodisappointed,mydarling,ifyoudon’tfindwhatyou’relookingforunderneaththatwrapper.Youreallycan’texpecttobeasluckyasallthat. 

           ’She’squiteright,’MrBucketsaid. 

           Charliedidn’tsayanything. 

           ’Afterall,’GrandmaJosephinesaid,’inthewholewideworldthereareonlythreeticketslefttobefound. 

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