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.