The story ³The last leaf´ written by O.

Henry is a story that talks about how can a person do a major part ,how hopeless he/she may be to become a symbol of hope and courage to others .the story revolves with the characters of Johnsy ,a little girl victimized by an illness unknown to many so they just called it Mr. Pneumonia , and Mr. Behrman ,an old man considers himself as a frustrated but magnificent painter who is just waiting for the right opportunity to create his first masterpiece .at the end ,he was able to finish his masterpiece ,a real one not because it is fabulous but it served as a tree of hope for Johnsy to fight against what many believed as an unbeatable illness . To begin the story, the author, describes the place, the west of Washington square, as a simple under develop city which makes it more prone to the mysterious disease. the phrases ³chivalric old gentleman ³ clearly gives a very dreadful description of the disease who is picking lives just like picking flowers on a garden . as I read the story , I can¶t tell myself if I can live in that kind or place which is really different from what we have today. Johnsy¶s mother ,sue, is another character who captures my attention .considered as a single parent ,the way she encouraged her daughter to fight and accept the medication while doing what she knows for the two of them to have even a loaf of bread in their table makes my heart cry since it only shows how a mother¶s heart is aching to see her precious child lose hope I a situation where life is at stake. As the story goes on ,the line ,´they are falling faster now´. mentioned by Johnsy served as the turning point of the story .it made me nervous to know if Johnsy is serious in depending her life to the leaves of an ivy vine twenty feet away from their house . I had mixed emotions when the story came to the part where Johnsy told her mother that as the last leaf of the ivy vine falls

only a silly reader will consider him as a key to a happy ending that everyone is expecting.she must so too . but ALAS ! .. The night before the last leaf falls.for me .the courage and determination to make an art not to prove himself but to help others prove that life is something to enjoy and fight for is what matters to him. Behrman drew a similar leaf tat night despite suffering from the same disease as Johnsy had.Johnsy finally accepted Sue¶s offer to be treated by the doctor. . Behrman died that came morning due to complications to his sickness.I don¶t think that he would a major part at the end of the story .also excepted the last leaf to fall that morning . Behrman about the condition of Johnsy. As Sue consulted Mr. a person who is fighting for his life.myself . the happiness I¶m feeling has changed to deep sorrow as I learned that made my heart jumped with joy since . deep in my mind . she did not have an idea to stay for she knew it is her time to go. The last true leaf really fell. that what makes him a real painter. The leaf became his masterpiece because he made it with the passion to save a life . As I read the last part of the story.when the morning came. i even made fun about how he talks and try to convinced Sue that he was a great painter just waiting to bloom . in the first place. However. Mr. I began to admire him for he was responsible for making that last leaf stay in the ivy vine. Johnsy was determined that will be her last night. they were surprised to see that last leaf remain hanging on the stem . By the is the most foolish thing to say for .

bosh! Has she anything on her mind worth thinking twice . Pneumonia was not what you would call a chivalric old gentleman. hunting for north windows and eighteenth-century gables and Dutch attics and low rents. short-breathed old duffer. One morning the busy doctor invited Sue into the hallway with a shaggy.she wanted to paint the Bay of Naples some day. as he shook down the mercury in his clinical thermometer. stalked about the colony. with a jew's-harp twang in her voice. Your little lady has made up her mind that she's not going to get well. Over on the east side this ravager strode boldly." said Sue. Has she anything on her mind?" "She . unseen stranger. "Johnsy" was familiar for Joanna. on her painted iron bedstead." These "places" make strange angles and curves. One Street crosses itself a time or two. This way people have of lining-u on the side of the undertaker makes the entire pharmacopoeia look silly." and found their tastes in art. That was in May. gray eyebrow. Suppose a collector with a bill for paints. Then they imported some pewter mugs and a chafing dish or two from Sixth Avenue. whom the doctors called Pneumonia. scarcely moving.The Last Leaf By O. suddenly meet himself coming back. there is .let us say. no. An artist once discovered a valuable possibility in this street." Mr.a man for instance?" "A man?" said Sue. ten. "Is a man worth . " And that chance is for her to want to live. "Paint? . They had met at the table d'hôte of an Eighth Street "Delmonico's. to quaint old Greenwich Village the art people soon came prowling." he said. A mite of a little woman with blood thinned by California zephyrs was hardly fair game for the red-fisted.but. and she lay. Henry In a little district west of Washington Square the streets have run crazy and broken themselves into small strips called "places. paper and canvas should. looking through the small Dutch window-panes at the blank side of the next brick house. but his feet trod slowly through the maze of the narrow and moss-grown "places. doctor. smiting his victims by scores. three-story brick Sue and Johnsy had their studio. But Johnsy he smote." At the top of a squatty. chicory salad and bishop sleeves so congenial that the joint studio resulted. touching one here and there with his icy fingers. One was from Maine. "She has one chance in . without a cent having been paid on account! So. in traversing this route. and became a "colony. In November a cold. the other from California.

Sue stopped whistling. I've known that for three days. with her face toward the window. The cold breath of autumn had stricken its leaves from the vine until its skeleton branches clung. scarcely making a ripple under the bedclothes." and "nine". several times repeated. But now it's easy.nothing of the kind. But whenever my patient begins to count the carriages in her funeral procession I subtract 50 per cent from the curative power of medicines. What was there to count? There was only a bare. so far as it may filter through my efforts. She went quickly to the bedside. There are only five left now. "Twelve. it is the weakness." she said. Sue look solicitously out of the window." After the doctor had gone Sue went into the workroom and cried a Japanese napkin to a pulp. "What is it. She was looking out the window and counting . and then "ten. dear? Tell your Sudie." "Well. old ivy vine. dear?" asked Sue. There goes another one. an Idaho cowboy. If you will get her to ask one question about the new winter styles in cloak sleeves I will promise you a one-in-five chance for her. gnarled and decayed at the roots. When the last one falls I must go. thinking she was asleep." said Johnsy. "I will do all that science. almost together. Didn't the doctor tell you?" . On the ivy vine. An old. too. to the crumbling bricks. dreary yard to be seen. Three days ago there were almost a hundred. in almost a whisper. She arranged her board and began a pen-and-ink drawing to illustrate a magazine story. and the blank side of the brick house twenty feet away." "Leaves.counting backward. then. she heard a low sound. "Six. and then "eight" and "seven". Young artists must pave their way to Art by drawing pictures for magazine stories that young authors write to pave their way to Literature. It made my head ache to count them. instead of one in ten. and little later "eleven"." said the doctor. "They're falling faster now. whistling ragtime. Then she swaggered into Johnsy's room with her drawing board. Johnsy lay. As Sue was sketching a pair of elegant horseshow riding trousers and a monocle of the figure of the hero. climbed half way up the brick wall. Johnsy's eyes were open wide." "Five what. almost bare. can accomplish.

"because I want to see the last one fall. or I would draw the shade down. that's almost as good a chance as we have in New York when we ride on the street cars or walk past a new building. In one corner was a blank canvas on an easel that had been waiting there for twenty-five years to receive the first line of the masterpiece. keeping her eyes fixed out the window."Oh. just like one of those poor. who scoffed terribly at softness in any one. Sue found Behrman smelling strongly of juniper berries in his dimly lighted den below. bending over her. and lying white and still as fallen statue." Old Behrman was a painter who lived on the ground floor beneath them. and let Sudie go back to her drawing. you naughty girl. down." complained Sue. and who regarded himself as especial mastiff-in-waiting to protect the two young artists in the studio above. too. "I'd rather be here by you. He had been always about to paint a masterpiece. coldly. I'll not be gone a minute. I want to see the last one fall before it gets dark. I don't want you to keep looking at those silly ivy leaves. indeed. float away. so she can sell the editor man with it. He drank gin to excess. Don't be a goosey. Don't try to move 'til I come back. I need the light. tired leaves. "I must call Behrman up to be my model for the old hermit miner. Why. He was past sixty and had a Michael Angelo's Moses beard curling down from the head of a satyr along with the body of an imp. "will you promise me to keep your eyes closed. I don't want any broth. and buy port wine for her sick child." "You needn't get any more wine. Try to take some broth now.let's see exactly what he said . the doctor told me this morning that your chances for getting well real soon were . and still talked of his coming masterpiece. . and not look out the window until I am done working? I must hand those drawings in by to-morrow. He earned a little by serving as a model to those young artists in the colony who could not pay the price of a professional.he said the chances were ten to one! Why." "Johnsy. For the rest he was a fierce little old man. Then I'll go. and pork chops for her greedy self. I never heard of such nonsense." "Tell me as soon as you have finished. and go sailing down. That leaves just four. I want to turn loose my hold on everything. when her slight hold upon the world grew weaker. dear. Behrman was a failure in art." said Johnsy." said Johnsy." said Sue. but had never yet begun it. light and fragile as a leaf herself. I'm tired of thinking." "Try to sleep. I'm tired of waiting. and how she feared she would. "There goes another. No. Forty years he had wielded the brush without getting near enough to touch the hem of his Mistress's robe. For several years he had painted nothing except now and then a daub in the line of commerce or advertising. with magnificent scorn. "What have old ivy leaves to do with your getting well? And you used to love that vine so." said Sue. "Beside." "Couldn't you draw in the other room?" asked Johnsy. closing her eyes. She told him of Johnsy's fancy." said Sue.

But. with its serrated edges tinted with the yellow of dissolution and decay. you needn't. "Who said I will not bose? Go on. "Vass!" he cried.Old Behrman. and I shall die at the same time. Still dark green near its stem. if you won't think of yourself. No. It was the last one on the vine. if you do not care to pose for me. mingled with snow. "think of me. Very well. The fancy seemed to possess her more strongly as one by one the ties . "Is dere people in de world mit der foolishness to die because leafs dey drop off from a confounded vine? I haf not heard of such a thing. far journey. in a whisper. "and the fever has left her mind morbid and full of strange fancies. Then they looked at each other for a moment without speaking. What would I do?" But Johnsy did not answer. dot poor leetle Miss Yohnsy. Sue pulled the shade down to the window-sill. It will fall to-day. it hung bravely from the branch some twenty feet above the ground. A persistent. with his red eyes plainly streaming. I want to see. When Sue awoke from an hour's sleep the next morning she found Johnsy with dull." said Sue. there yet stood out against the brick wall one ivy leaf." said Johnsy. lo! after the beating rain and fierce gusts of wind that had endured through the livelong night. cold rain was falling." "Dear. I come mit you." "She is very ill and weak. took his seat as the hermit miner on an upturned kettle for a rock. shouted his contempt and derision for such idiotic imaginings. Wearily Sue obeyed. and motioned Behrman into the other room. Mr. Behrman. Some day I vill baint a masterpiece." she ordered." Johnsy was sleeping when they went upstairs. Behrman. I will not bose as a model for your fool hermitdunderhead. The lonesomest thing in all the world is a soul when it is making ready to go on its mysterious. I heard the wind. wide-open eyes staring at the drawn green shade. "I thought it would surely fall during the night. For half an hour I haf peen trying to say dot I am ready to bose. and ve shall all go away. But I think you are a horrid old old flibbertigibbet. dear!" said Sue." "You are just like a woman!" yelled Behrman. Vy do you allow dot silly pusiness to come in der brain of her? Ach. leaning her worn face down to the pillow. In there they peered out the window fearfully at the ivy vine. "It is the last one. in his old blue shirt. Gott! yes. Gott! dis is not any blace in which one so goot as Miss Yohnsy shall lie sick. "Pull it up.

" The next day the doctor said to Sue: "She's out of danger." And now I must see another case I have downstairs. And then. They couldn't imagine where he had been on such a dreadful night. darling. pillows and all." . "I have something to tell you. Behrman. taking Sue's thin. while the rain still beat against the windows and pattered down from the low Dutch eaves.look out the window. The day wore away." said the doctor. Sudie. and some milk with a little port in it." And hour later she said: "Sudie. Nutrition and care now . bring me a hand-mirror first. The janitor found him the morning of the first day in his room downstairs helpless with pain. but he goes to the hospital to-day to be made more "Mr. He is an old. and put one arm around her. and . He was ill only two days. contentedly knitting a very blue and very useless woollen shoulder scarf. white mouse. And then she called to Sue. And then they found a lantern. You may bring a me a little broth now. It is a sin to want to die. and . too." she said. who was stirring her chicken broth over the gas stove. Pneumonia. still lighted. "Even chances. commanded that the shade be raised. and a palette with green and yellow colors mixed on it. Johnsy lay for a long time looking at it. You won. and I will sit up and watch you cook. His shoes and clothing were wet through and icy cold.that bound her to friendship and to earth were loosed. There is no hope for him.some kind of an artist. some day I hope to paint the Bay of Naples. and the attack is acute. it's Behrman's masterpiece he painted it there the night that the last leaf fell. his name is . "Something has made that last leaf stay there to show me how wicked I was. Behrman died of pneumonia to-day in the hospital. the merciless. "With good nursing you'll win. The ivy leaf was still there. and even through the twilight they could see the lone ivy leaf clinging to its stem against the wall. I believe. and then pack some pillows about me." said Johnsy. and a ladder that had been dragged from its place. Didn't you wonder why it never fluttered or moved when the wind blew? Ah.that's all." And that afternoon Sue came to the bed where Johnsy lay." The doctor came in the afternoon. at the last ivy leaf on the wall. and some scattered brushes. When it was light enough Johnsy. with the coming of the night the north wind was again loosed. "I've been a bad girl. shaking hand in his. and Sue had an excuse to go into the hallway as he left. weak man. dear.