ge and answered:

"I am Dorothy, the Small and Meek. I have come to you for help."

The eyes looked at her thoughtfully for a full minute. Then said the
voice:

"Where did you get the silver shoes?"

"I got them from the Wicked Witch of the East, when my house fell on
her and killed her," she replied.

"Where did you get the mark upon your forehead?" continued the voice.

"That is where the Good Witch of the North kissed me when she bade me
good-bye and sent me to you," said the girl.

Again the eyes looked at her sharply, and they saw she was telling the
truth. Then Oz asked, "What do you wish me to do?"

"Send me back to Kansas, where my Aunt Em and Uncle Henry are," she
answered earnestly. "I don't like your country, although it is so
beautiful. And I am sure Aunt Em will be dreadfully worried over my
being away so long."

The eyes winked three times, and then they turned up to the ceiling and
down to the floor and rolled around so queerly that they seemed to see
every part of the room. And at last they looked at Dorothy again.

"Why should I do this for you?" asked Oz.

"Because you are strong and I am weak; because you are a Great Wizard
and I am only a little girl."

"But you were strong enough to kill the Wicked Witch of the East," said
Oz.

"That just happened," returned Dorothy simply; "I could not help it."

"Well," said the Head, "I will give you my answer. You have no right
to expect me to send you back to Kansas unless you do something for me
in return. In this country everyone must pay for everything he gets.
If you wish me to use my magic power to send you home again you must do
something for me first. Help me and I will help you."

"What must I do?" asked the girl.

"Kill the Wicked Witch of the West," answered Oz.

"But I cannot!" exclaimed Dorothy, greatly surprised.

"You killed the Witch of the East and you wear the silver shoes, which
bear a powerful charm. There is now but one Wicked Witch left in all
this land, and when you can tell me she is dead I will send you back to
Kansas--but not before."

The little girl began to weep, she was so much disappointed; and the
eyes winked again and looked upon her anxiously, as if the Great Oz
felt that she could help him if she would.

"I never killed anything, willingly," she sobbed. "Even if I wanted
to, how could I kill the Wicked Witch? If you, who are Great and
Terrible, cannot kill her yourself, how do you expect me