Dorothy listened to this speech with wonder.  What could the little woman possibly mean by calling her a sorceress, and saying she had killed the Wicked Witch of the East?  Dorothy was an innocent, harmless little girl, who had been carried by a cyclone many miles from home; and she had never killed anything in all her life.

But the little woman evidently expected her to answer; so Dorothy said, with hesitation, “You are very kind, but there must be some mistake.  I have not killed anything.”

“Your house did, anyway,” replied the little old woman, with a laugh, “and that is the same thing.  See!” she continued, pointing to the corner of the house.  “There are her two feet, still sticking out from under a block of wood.”

Dorothy looked, and gave a little cry of fright.  There, indeed, just under the corner of the great beam the house rested on, two feet were sticking out, shod in silver shoes with pointed toes.

“Oh, dear!  Oh, dear!” cried Dorothy, clasping her hands together in dismay.  “The house must have fallen on her.  Whatever shall we do?”

    “There is nothing to be done,” said the little woman calmly.

    “But who was she?” asked Dorothy.

“She was the Wicked Witch of the East, as I said,” answered the little woman.  “She has held all the Munchkins in bondage for many years, making them slave for her night and day.  Now they are all set free, and are grateful to you for the favor.”

    “Who are the Munchkins?” inquired Dorothy.

    “They are the people who live in this land of the East
 where the Wicked Witch ruled.”

    “Are you a Munchkin?” asked Dorothy.

“No, but I am their friend, although I live in the land of the North.  When they saw the Witch of the East was dead the Munchkins sent a swift messenger to me, and I came at once.  I am the Witch of the North.”

    “Oh, gracious!” cried Dorothy.  “Are you a real witch?”

“Yes, indeed,” answered the little woman.  “But I am a good witch, and the people love me.  I am not as powerful as the Wicked Witch was who ruled here, or I should have set the people free myself.”

“But I thought all witches were wicked,” said the girl, who was half frightened at facing a real witch.  “Oh, no, that is a great mistake.  There were only four witches in all the Land of Oz, and two of them, those who live in the North and the South, are good witches.  I know this is true, for I am one of them myself, and cannot be mistaken.  Those who dwelt in the East and the West were, indeed, wicked witches; but now that you have killed one of them, there is but one Wicked Witch in all the Land of Oz—­the one who lives in the West.”

“But,” said Dorothy, after a moment’s thought, “Aunt Em has told me that the witches were all dead—­years and years ago.”

    “Who is Aunt Em?” inquired the little old woman.