'Jumping jackrabbits!' yelled Mr Bucket. 'She's three hundred and fifty-two years old!'
'She's more,' said Charlie. 'How old did you say you were, Grandma, when you sailed on the Mayflower? Were you about eight?'
'I think I was even younger than that, my darling... I was only a bitty little girl... probably no more than six...'
'Then she's three hundred and fifty-eight!' gasped Charlie.
'That's Vita-Wonk for you,' said Mr Wonka proudly. 'I told you it was powerful stuff.'
'Three hundred and fifty-eight!' said Mr Bucket. 'It's unbelievable!'
'Just imagine the things she must have seen in her lifetime!' said Grandpa Joe.
'My poor old mother!' wailed Mrs Bucket. 'What on earth...'
'Patience, dear lady,' said Mr Wonka. 'Now comes the interesting part. Bring on the Wonka-Vite!'
An Oompa-Loompa ran forward with a large bottle and gave it to Mr Wonka. He put it on the bed. 'How young does she want to be?' he asked.
'Seventy-eight,' said Mrs Bucket firmly. 'Exactly where she was before all this nonsense started!'
'Surely she'd like to be a bit younger than that?' said Mr Wonka.
'Certainly not!' said Mrs Bucket. 'It's too risky!'
'Too risky, too risky!' croaked Grandma Georgina. 'You'll only Minus me again if you try to be clever!'
'Have it your own way,' said Mr Wonka. 'Now then, I've got to do a few sums.' Another Oompa-Loompa trotted forward, holding up a blackboard. Mr Wonka took a piece of chalk from his pocket and wrote:
'Fourteen pills of Wonka-Vite exactly,' said Mr Wonka. The Oompa-Loompa took the blackboard away. Mr Wonka picked up the bottle from the bed and opened it and counted out fourteen of the little brilliant yellow pills. 'Water!' he said. Yet another Oompa-Loompa ran forward with a glass of water. Mr Wonka tipped all fourteen pills into the glass. The water bubbled and frothed. 'Drink it while it's fizzing,' he said, holding the glass up to Grandma Georgina's lips. 'All in one gulp!'
She drank it.
Mr Wonka sprang back and took a large brass clock from his pocket. 'Don't forget,' he cried, 'it's a year a second! She's got two hundred and eighty years to lose! That'll take her four minutes and forty seconds! Watch the centuries fall away!'
The room was so silent they could hear the ticking of Mr Wonka's clock. At first nothing much happened to the ancient person lying on the bed. She closed her eyes and lay back. Now and again, the puckered skin of her face gave a twitch and her little hands jerked up and down, but that was all...
'One minute gone!' called Mr Wonka. 'She's sixty years younger.'
'She looks just the same to me,' said Mr Bucket.
'Of course she does,' said Mr Wonka. 'What's a mere sixty years when you're over three hundred to start with!'
'Are you all right, Mother?' said Mrs Bucket anxiously. 'Talk to me, Mother!'
'Two minutes gone!' called Mr Wonka. 'She's one hundred and twenty years younger!'
And now definite changes were beginning to show in the old woman's face. The skin was quivering all over and some of the deepest wrinkles were becoming less and less deep, the mouth less sunken, the nose more prominent.
'Mother!' cried Mrs Bucket. 'Are you all right? Speak to me, Mother, please!'
Suddenly, with a suddenness that made everyone jump, the old woman sat bolt upright in bed and shouted, 'Did you hear the news! Admiral Nelson has beaten the French at Trafalgar!'
'She's going crazy!' said Mr Bucket.
'Not at all,' said Mr Wonka. 'She's going through the nineteenth century.'
'Three minutes gone!' said Mr Wonka.