TheLastLeaf

O.Henry
ManyartistslivedintheGreenwichVillageareaofNewYork.TwoyoungwomennamedSue
andJohnsysharedastudioapartmentatthetopofathreestorybuilding.Johnsy'srealname
wasJoanna.
InNovember,acold,unseenstrangercametovisitthecity.Thisdisease,pneumonia,killed
manypeople.Johnsylayonherbed,hardlymoving.Shelookedthroughthesmallwindow.She
couldseethesideofthebrickhousenexttoherbuilding.
Onemorning,adoctorexaminedJohnsyandtookhertemperature.ThenhespokewithSuein
anotherroom.
"Shehasonechanceinletussayten,"hesaid."Andthatchanceisforhertowanttolive.
Yourfriendhasmadeuphermindthatsheisnotgoingtogetwell.Hassheanythingonher
mind?"
"SheshewantedtopainttheBayofNaplesinItalysomeday,"saidSue.
"Paint?"saidthedoctor."Bosh!Hassheanythingonhermindworththinkingtwiceamanfor
example?"
"Aman?"saidSue."Isamanworthbut,no,doctorthereisnothingofthekind."
"Iwilldoallthatsciencecando,"saidthedoctor."Butwhenevermypatientbeginstocountthe
carriagesatherfuneral,Itakeawayfiftypercentfromthecurativepowerofmedicines."
Afterthedoctorhadgone,Suewentintotheworkroomandcried.ThenshewenttoJohnsy's
roomwithherdrawingboard,whistlingragtime.
Johnsylaywithherfacetowardthewindow.Suestoppedwhistling,thinkingshewasasleep.
Shebeganmakingapenandinkdrawingforastoryinamagazine.Youngartistsmustwork
theirwayto"Art"bymakingpicturesformagazinestories.Sueheardalowsound,severaltimes
repeated.Shewentquicklytothebedside.
Johnsy'seyeswereopenwide.Shewaslookingoutthewindowandcountingcounting
backward."Twelve,"shesaid,andalittlelater"eleven"andthen"ten"and"nine"andthen
"eight"and"seven,"almosttogether.
Suelookedoutthewindow.Whatwastheretocount?Therewasonlyanemptyyardandthe
blanksideofthehousesevenmetersaway.Anoldivyvine,goingbadattheroots,climbedhalf

wayupthewall.Thecoldbreathofautumnhadstrickenleavesfromtheplantuntilitsbranches,
almostbare,hungonthebricks.
"Whatisit,dear?"askedSue.
"Six,"saidJohnsy,quietly."They'refallingfasternow.Threedaysagotherewerealmosta
hundred.Itmademyheadhurttocountthem.Butnowit'seasy.Theregoesanotherone.There
areonlyfiveleftnow."
"Fivewhat,dear?"askedSue.
"Leaves.Ontheplant.WhenthelastonefallsImustgo,too.I'veknownthatforthreedays.
Didn'tthedoctortellyou?"
"Oh,Ineverheardofsuchathing,"saidSue."Whathaveoldivyleavestodowithyourgetting
well?Andyouusedtolovethatvine.Don'tbesilly.Why,thedoctortoldmethismorningthat
yourchancesforgettingwellrealsoonwerelet'sseeexactlywhathesaidhesaidthe
chancesweretentoone!Trytoeatsomesoupnow.And,letmegobacktomydrawing,soI
cansellittothemagazineandbuyfoodandwineforus."
"Youneedn'tgetanymorewine,"saidJohnsy,keepinghereyesfixedoutthewindow."There
goesanotherone.No,Idon'twantanysoup.Thatleavesjustfour.Iwanttoseethelastonefall
beforeitgetsdark.ThenI'llgo,too."
"Johnsy,dear,"saidSue,"willyoupromisemetokeepyoureyesclosed,andnotlookoutthe
windowuntilIamdoneworking?Imusthandthosedrawingsinbytomorrow."
"Tellmeassoonasyouhavefinished,"saidJohnsy,closinghereyesandlyingwhiteandstill
asafallenstatue."Iwanttoseethelastonefall.I'mtiredofwaiting.I'mtiredofthinking.Iwant
toturnloosemyholdoneverything,andgosailingdown,down,justlikeoneofthosepoor,tired
leaves."
"Trytosleep,"saidSue."ImustcallMisterBehrmanuptobemymodelformydrawingofan
oldminer.Don'ttrytomoveuntilIcomeback."
OldBehrmanwasapainterwholivedonthegroundflooroftheapartmentbuilding.Behrman
wasafailureinart.Foryears,hehadalwaysbeenplanningtopaintaworkofart,buthadnever
yetbegunit.Heearnedalittlemoneybyservingasamodeltoartistswhocouldnotpayfora
professionalmodel.Hewasafierce,little,oldmanwhoprotectedthetwoyoungwomeninthe
studioapartmentabovehim.

SuefoundBehrmaninhisroom.Inoneareawasablankcanvasthathadbeenwaiting
twentyfiveyearsforthefirstlineofpaint.SuetoldhimaboutJohnsyandhowshefearedthat
herfriendwouldfloatawaylikealeaf.
OldBehrmanwasangeredatsuchanidea."Aretherepeopleintheworldwiththefoolishness
todiebecauseleavesdropoffavine?Whydoyouletthatsillybusinesscomeinherbrain?"
"Sheisverysickandweak,"saidSue,"andthediseasehaslefthermindfullofstrangeideas."
"ThisisnotanyplaceinwhichonesogoodasMissJohnsyshallliesick,"yelledBehrman.
"SomedayIwillpaintamasterpiece,andweshallallgoaway."
Johnsywassleepingwhentheywentupstairs.Suepulledtheshadedowntocoverthewindow.
SheandBehrmanwentintotheotherroom.Theylookedoutawindowfearfullyattheivyvine.
Thentheylookedateachotherwithoutspeaking.Acoldrainwasfalling,mixedwithsnow.
Behrmansatandposedastheminer.
Thenextmorning,Sueawokeafteranhour'ssleep.ShefoundJohnsywithwideopeneyes
staringatthecoveredwindow.
"PulluptheshadeIwanttosee,"sheordered,quietly.
Sueobeyed.
Afterthebeatingrainandfiercewindthatblewthroughthenight,thereyetstoodagainstthe
walloneivyleaf.Itwasthelastoneonthevine.Itwasstilldarkgreenatthecenter.Butits
edgeswerecoloredwiththeyellow.Ithungbravelyfromthebranchaboutsevenmetersabove
theground.
"Itisthelastone,"saidJohnsy."Ithoughtitwouldsurelyfallduringthenight.Iheardthewind.It
willfalltodayandIshalldieatthesametime."
"Dear,dear!"saidSue,leaningherwornfacedowntowardthebed."Thinkofme,ifyouwon't
thinkofyourself.WhatwouldIdo?"
ButJohnsydidnotanswer.
Thenextmorning,whenitwaslight,Johnsydemandedthatthewindowshadeberaised.The
ivyleafwasstillthere.Johnsylayforalongtime,lookingatit.AndthenshecalledtoSue,who
waspreparingchickensoup.

"I'vebeenabadgirl,"saidJohnsy."Somethinghasmadethatlastleafstaytheretoshowme
howbadIwas.Itiswrongtowanttodie.Youmaybringmealittlesoupnow."
Anhourlatershesaid:"SomedayIhopetopainttheBayofNaples."
Laterintheday,thedoctorcame,andSuetalkedtohiminthehallway.
"Evenchances,"saidthedoctor."Withgoodcare,you'llwin.AndnowImustseeanothercaseI
haveinyourbuilding.Behrman,hisnameissomekindofanartist,Ibelieve.Pneumonia,too.
Heisanold,weakmanandhiscaseissevere.Thereisnohopeforhimbuthegoestothe
hospitaltodaytoeasehispain."
Thenextday,thedoctorsaidtoSue:"She'soutofdanger.Youwon.Nutritionandcarenow
that'sall."
Laterthatday,SuecametothebedwhereJohnsylay,andputonearmaroundher.
"Ihavesomethingtotellyou,whitemouse,"shesaid."MisterBehrmandiedofpneumoniatoday
inthehospital.Hewassickonlytwodays.Theyfoundhimthemorningofthefirstdayinhis
roomdownstairshelplesswithpain.Hisshoesandclothingwerecompletelywetandicycold.
Theycouldnotimaginewherehehadbeenonsuchaterriblenight.
Andthentheyfoundalantern,stilllighted.Andtheyfoundaladderthathadbeenmovedfrom
itsplace.Andartsuppliesandapaintingboardwithgreenandyellowcolorsmixedonit.
Andlookoutthewindow,dear,atthelastivyleafonthewall.Didn'tyouwonderwhyitnever
movedwhenthewindblew?Ah,darling,itisBehrman'smasterpiecehepaintedittherethe
nightthatthelastleaffell."