We must have all
temporarily forgotten about that in our excitement."
"She must be made of a different material," said the Tin Woodman.
"I wonder why we're trying to save her," the Lion said. "If she
recovers, she'll just attack us again."
Dorothy, ignoring the Lion's remarks but bracing herself, began mouth to
mouth resuscitation. Sure enough, the witch began to stir.
"She's coming to," said the Lion, stepping back slightly.
The witch's eyes opened and looked evilly from side to side. She looked
around her, but could see only a few blurry shadows.
Gradually, her eyes focused on Dorothy's pretty features. Hatred began
to well up inside her. She stood up shakily, then collapsed in a faint.
"Quickly!" said Dorothy. "More water."
The Lion ran to the stream and filled the Tin Woodman's hat to the brim.
He carried the funnel in his mouth as he ran back to Dorothy, spilling
most of it on the way.
Dorothy sat the witch up and pressed the rim of the funnel to her lips.
"Drink," she said as she tilted it. The witch took a sip, then collapsed
again.
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