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Magrat, bemused, looked around the little house.
'It just dropped out of the sky!' she said.
'Could have been a big tornado or something somewhere,' said Nanny Ogg. 'Picked it up, see, then the wind drops and down it comes. You get funny things happening in high winds. Remember that big gale we had last year? One of my hens laid the same egg four times.'
'She's rambling,' said Magrat.
'No I ain't, that's just my normal talking,' said Nanny.
Granny Weatherwax peered into one of the rooms. 'I suppose there wouldn't be any food and drink about the place?' she said.
'I think I could force myself to drink some brandy,' said Nanny quickly.
Magrat peered up the stairs.
'Coo-ee,' she called, in the strangled voice of someone who wants to be heard without doing anything so bad-mannered as raise their voice. 'Is there anyone here?'
Nanny, on the other hand, looked under the stairs. Greebo was a cowering ball of fur in a corner. She hauled him out by the scruff of his neck and gave him a slightly bewildered pat. Despite Mr Vernissage "s millinery masterpiece, despite the worm-eaten floor, and despite even the legendary thick skull of the Oggs, she was definitely feeling several twinkles short of a glitter and suffering a slight homesick-tinged dip in her usual sunny nature. People didn't hit you over the head with farmhouses back home.
'You know, Greebo,' she said, 'I don't think we're in Lancre.'
'I've found some jam,' said Granny Weatherwax, from the kitchen.
It didn't take a lot to cheer up Nanny Ogg. 'That's fine,' she called out. 'It'll go nicely on the dwarf bread.'
Magrat came into the room.
'I'm not sure we should be taking other people's provisions,' she said. 'I mean, this place must belong to someone.'
'Oh. Did someone speak, Gytha?' said Granny Weather-wax archly.
Nanny rolled her eyes.
'I was merely saying, Nanny,' said Magrat, 'that this isn't our property.'
'She says it don't belong to us, Esme,' said Nanny.
'Tell anyone who wants to know, Gytha, that it's like salvage from a shipwreck,' said Granny.
'She says finders keepers, Magrat,' said Nanny.
Something flickered past the window. Magrat went and peered out through the grimy pane.
'That's funny. There's a lot of dwarfs dancing round the house,' she said.
'Oh, yes?' said Nanny, opening a cupboard.
Granny stiffened. 'Are they - I means, ask her if they're singing,' she said.
'They singing, Magrat?'
'I can hear something,' said Magrat. 'Sounds like “Dingdong, dingdong”.'
'That's a dwarf song all right,' said Nanny. 'They're the only people who can make a hiho last all day.'
'They seem very happy about it,' said Magrat doubtfully.
'Probably it was their farmhouse and they're glad to get it back.'
