In the path before them stood a tin man who was the
exact duplicate of the Tin Woodman. He was of the same
size, he was jointed in the same manner, and he was
made of shining tin from top to toe. But he stood
immovable, with his tin jaws half parted and his tin
eyes turned upward. In one of his hands was held a
long, gleaming sword. Yes, there was the difference,
the only thing that distinguished him from the Emperor
of the Winkies. This tin man bore a sword, while the
Tin Woodman bore an axe.
"It's a dream; it must be a dream!" gasped Woot.
"That's it, of course," said the Scarecrow; "there
couldn't be two Tin Woodmen."
"No," agreed Polychrome, dancing nearer to the
stranger, "this one is a Tin Soldier. Don't you see his
sword?"
The Tin Woodman cautiously put out one tin hand and
felt of his double's arm. Then he said in a voice that
trembled with emotion:
"Who are you, friend?"
There was no reply
"Can't you see he's rusted, just as you were once?"
asked Polychrome, laughing again. "Here, Nick Chopper,
lend me your oil-can a minute!"
The Tin Woodman silently handed her his oil-can,
without which he never traveled, and Polychrome
first oiled the stranger's tin jaws and then worked
them gently to and fro until the Tin Soldier said:
"That's enough. Thank you. I can now talk. But please
oil my other joints."
Woot seized the oil-can and did this, but all the
others helped wiggle the soldier's joints as soon as
they were oiled, until they moved freely.
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