"Before I left the Land of Oz, Glinda the Royal Sorceress gave me a box, which I was not to open except in an emergency.

But I feel pretty sure that this occasion is an emergency; don't you, Trot ?" he asked, turning toward the little girl.
"Why, we've got to do something," replied Trot seriously.

"Things seem in an awful muddle here, jus' now, and they'll be worse if we don't stop this witch from doing more harm to people." "That is my idea, exactly," said the Scarecrow, and taking a small box from his pocket he opened the cover and tossed the contents toward Blinkie.
The old woman shrank back, pale and trembling, as a fine white dust settled all about her.

Under its influence she seemed to the eyes of all observers to shrivel and grow smaller.
"Oh, dear--oh, dear!" she wailed, wringing her hands in fear.

"Haven't you the antidote, Scarecrow?
Didn't the great Sorceress give you another box ?" "She did," answered the Scarecrow.
"Then give it me--quick!" pleaded the witch.