The Last Leaf
by O. Henry Salin ni Dave A. De Los Martirez
In a small part of the city west of Washington
Square, the streets have gone wild. They turn in different
directions. They are broken into small pieces called
“places.” One street goes across itself one or two times.
A painter once discovered something possible and
valuable about this street. Suppose a painter had some
painting materials for which he had not paid. Suppose he
had no money. Suppose a man came to get the money. The
man might walk down that street and suddenly meet
himself coming back, without having received a cent! This
part of the city is called Greenwich Village. And to old
Greenwich Village the painters soon came. Here they
found rooms they like, with good light and at a low cost.
Sue and Johnsy lived at the top of a building with
three floors. One of these young women came from
Maine, the other from California. They had met at a
restaurant on Eighth Street. There they discovered that
they liked the same kind of art, the same kind of food, and
the same kind of clothes. So they decided to live and work
together.
That was in the spring.
Ang Huling Dahon
Sa maliit na bahagi ng lungsod sa kanluran ng
Washington Square, ang mga kalye ay nagkagulo. Kung
saan-saan ang direksiyon ng mga ito. Ang mga ito ay
pinagpira-piraso at tinawag na mga “lugar”. Ang isang
kalye ay tumatawid sa kanyang sarili ng isa o dalawang
beses. Ang isang pintor ay minsang may natuklasan na
posible at mahalaga sa kalyeng ito. Ipagpalagay na ang
isang pintor ay may mga materyales sa pagpipinta na
hindi niya binayaran. Ipagpalagay na wala siyang pera.
Ipagpalagay na may isang lalaki na dumating para kunin
ang pera. Maaaring dumaan siya sa kalyeng iyon at
bumalik ulit na wala man lang natatanggap ni sentimo.
Ang bahagi ng lungsod na ito ay tinatawag na Nayon ng
Greenwich. At sa lumang Nayon ng Greenwich ang mga
pintor ay dumating. Dito sila nakahanap ng mga kwartong
kanilang gusto, may magandang ilaw at nasa murang
halaga.
Sina Sue at Johnsy ay naninirahan sa tuktok ng
isang gusali na may tatlong palapag. Ang isa sa mga
dalagang ito ay nagmula sa Maine, ang isa naman ay sa
California. Nagkakilala sila sa isang restawran sa Eighth
Street. Doon ay nadiskubre nila na pareho sila ng gusto
pagdating sa sining, pagkain, at mga damit kung kaya ay
napagdesisyunan nila na tumira at magtrabaho nang
magkasama.
Iyon ay panahon ng tagsibol.
 Toward winter a cold stranger entered Greenwich
Village. No one could see him. He walked around touching
one person here and another there with his icy fingers.
He was a bad sickness. Doctors called him Pneumonia.
On the east side of the city he hurried, touching many
people; but in the narrow streets of Greenwich Village he
did not move so quickly.
Mr. Pneumonia was not a nice old gentleman. A
nice old gentleman would not hurt a weak little woman
from California. But Mr. Pneumonia touched Johnsy with
his cold fingers. She lay on her bed almost without
moving, and she looked through the window at the wall of
the house next to hers.
One morning the busy doctor spoke to Sue alone in
the hall, where Johnsy could not hear.
“She has a very small chance,” he said. “She has a
chance, if she wants to live. If people don’t want to live, I
can’t do much for them. Your little lady has decided that
she is not going to get well. Is there something that is
troubling her?”
“She always wanted to go to Italy and paint a
picture of the Bay of Naples,” said Sue.
“Paint! Not paint. Is there anything worth being
troubled about? A man?”
Dumating ang tagginaw, isang malamig na
estranghero ang pumasok sa Nayon ng Greenwich.
Walang nakakakita sa kanya. Naglibot siya at
hinahawakan ang isang tao dito at isa pa roon ng kanyang
malalamig na mga daliri. Isa siyang malubhang sakit.
Tinatawag siya ng mga doktor na Pulmonya. Sa silangan
ng siyudad ay siya ay nagtungo, hinahawakan ang
maraming tao; ngunit sa makipot na kalye ng Nayon ng
Greenwich, hindi siya nakagalaw nang mabilis.
Si Ginoong Pulmonya ay isang hindi mabuting
ginoo. Ang isang mabuting ginoo ay hindi sasaktan ang
isang mahinang maliit na babae mula sa California. Ngunit
si Ginoong Pulmonya ay hinawakan si Johnsy ng kanyang
malamig na mga daliri. Siya ay nakahiga sa kanyang kama
na halos hindi na gumagalaw, at sa bintana ay nakatingin
siya sa pader ng bahay na katabi nila.
Isang umaga, kinausap ng doktor si Sue nang mag-
isa sa pasilyo, kung saan ay hindi naririnig ni Johnsy.
“Siya ay mayroon ng napakaliit na pag-asa”, sabi
niya. “Siya ay may pag-asa, kung gusto niyang mabuhay.
Kung ang mga tao ay ayaw nang mabuhay, wala na akong
magagawa para sa kanila. Ang iyong kaibigan ay
nakapagdesisyon na na hindi na siya gagaling. May
bumabagabag ba sa kanya?”
“Lagi niyang gustong pumunta sa Italya at ipinta
ang Look ng Naples”, wika ni Sue.
“Pagpipinta! Hindi pagpipinta. May iba pa bang
kabagabagabag? Lalaki?”
 “A man?” said Sue. “Is a man worth—No, doctor.
There is not a man.”
“It is weakness,” said the doctor. “I will do all I know
how to do. But when a sick person begins to feel that he’s
going to die, half my work is useless. Talk to her about
new winter clothes. If she were interested in the future,
her chances would be better.”
After the doctor had gone, Sue went into the
workroom to cry. Then she walked into Johnsy’s room.
She carried some of her painting materials, and she was
singing.
Johnsy lay there, very thin and very quiet. Her face
was turned toward the window. Sue stopped singing,
thinking that Johnsy was asleep.
Sue began to work. As she worked she heard a low
sound, again and again. She went quickly to the bedside.
Johnsy’s eyes were open wide. She was looking
out the window and counting—counting back.
“Twelve,” she said; and a little later, “Eleven”; and
then, “Ten,” and, “Nine”; and then, “Eight,” and, “Seven,”
almost together.
“Lalaki?”, tanong ni Sue. “Ang lalaki ba ay dapat—
Hindi, doktor. Walang lalaki.”
“Iyon ay kahinaan,” wika ng doktor. “Gagawin ko
lahat ng aking makakaya. Ngunit kung ang may sakit ay
nagsimulang makaramdam na siya ay mamamatay na,
kalahati ng aking trabaho ay wala ng saysay. Kausapin mo
siya tungkol sa mga bagong damit pangtagginaw. Kung
siya ay interesado sa hinaharap, ang pag-asa niya ay
magiging mas mabuti.
Pagkaalis ng doktor, si Sue ay nagtungo sa silid-
trabahuhan para umiyak. Pagkatapos ay pumasok naman
siya sa silid ni Johnsy. Nagdala siya ng ilang materyales
sa pagpipinta, at siya ay umaawit
Si Johnsy ay nakahiga, sobrang payat at
napakatahimik. Siya ay lumingon sa bintana. Tumigil sa
pag-awit si Sue dahil iniisip niyang natutulog si Johnsy.
Nagsimulang magtrabaho si Sue. Sa kanyang
pagtatrabaho ay paulit-ulit siyang nakarinig ng mahinang
tunog. Nagmadali siyang nagtungo sa tabi ng kama.
Ang mga mata ni Johnsy ay mulat na mulat. Siya ay
nakatingin sa bintana at nagbibilang—pabalik na
nagbibilang.
“Labindalawa,” sabi niya; maya-maya pa, “Labing-
isa”; at sumunod, “Sampu,”at “Siyam”; at sumunod, “Walo,”
at, “Pito,” halos magkasabay.
 Sue looked out the window. What was there to
count? There was only the side wall of the next house, a
short distance away. The wall had no window. An old, old
tree grew against the wall. The cold breath of winter had
already touched it. Almost all its leaves had fallen from
its dark branches.
“What is it, dear?” asked Sue.
“Six,” said Johnsy, in a voice still lower. “They’re
falling faster now. Three days ago there were almost a
hundred. It hurt my head to count them. But now it’s easy.
There goes another one. There are only five now.”
“Five what, dear? Tell your Sue.”
“Leaves. On the tree. When the last one falls, I must
go, too. I’ve known that for three days. Didn’t the doctor
tell you?”
“Oh, I never heard of such a thing,” said Sue. “It
doesn’t have any sense in it. What does an old tree have
to do with you? Or with your getting well? And you used to
love that tree so much. Don’t be a little fool. The doctor
told me your chances for getting well. He told me this
morning. He said you had very good chances! Try to eat a
little now. And then I’ll go back to work. And then I can sell
my picture, and then I can buy something more for you to
eat to make you strong.”
Si Sue ay tumingin sa bintana. Ano ba ang mayroon
doon para bilangin? Ang meron lamang doon ay ang pader
ng kabilang bahay na malapit sa kanila. Ang pader na ito
ay walang bintana. Isang matandang puno ang lumaki sa
pader. Ito ay nadampian na ng malamig na hangin na dulot
ng tagginaw. Halos lahat ng mga dahon nito ay nahulog na
mula sa maiitim nitong mga sanga.
“Ano iyon, giliw?” tanong ni Sue.
“Anim,” wika ni Johnsy, sa mahina pa ring boses.
“Ngayon, sila ay nahuhulog nang mas mabilis. Noong
nakaraang tatlong araw, halos nasa isandaan ang mga ito.
Sumakit ang ulo ko kaya binilang ko na lamang sila.
Ngunit ngayon ay madali na. May isa pang nahulog.
Ngayon ay lilima na lamang sila.”
“Limang ano, giliw? Sabihin mo sa akin.”
“Mga dahon. Sa puno. Kapag ang huling dahon ay
nahulog na, kailangan ko na ring lumisan. Tatlong araw ko
na iyong nalalaman. Hindi ba sinabi sa iyo ng doktor?”
“Wala akong narinig na ganyang bagay mula sa
kanya,” wika ni Sue. “Wala man lang kabuluhan iyon. Ano
ang kinalaman ng matandang puno sa iyo? O sa iyong
paggaling? At minahal mo rin nang sobra ang punong iyon.
Huwag kang maging tanga. Sinabi sa akin ng doktor ang
iyong tsansa na gumaling. Sinabi niya sa akin kaninang
umaga. Sabi niya ay may malaki kang pag-asa! Subukan
mong kumain ngayon nang paunti-unti. At ako ay babalik
na sa aking pagtatrabaho. At nang maibenta ko na ang
aking larawan, at makabili ako ng marami pang pagkain
para iyong kainin upang ikaw ay lumakas.
 “You don’t have to buy anything for me,” said
Johnsy. She still looked out the window. “There goes
another. No, I don’t want anything to eat. Now there are
four. I want to see the last one fall before night. Then I’ll
go, too.”
“Johnsy, dear,” said Sue, “will you promise me to
close your eyes and keep them closed? Will you promise
not to look out the window until I finish working? I must
have this picture ready tomorrow. I need the light; I can’t
cover the window.”
“Couldn’t you work in the other room?” asked
Johnsy coldly.
“I’d rather be here by you,” said Sue. “And I don’t
want you to look at those leaves.”
“Tell me as soon as you have finished,” said Johnsy.
She closed her eyes and lay white and still. “Because I
want to see the last leaf fall. I have done enough waiting.
I have done enough thinking. I want to go sailing down,
down, like one of those leaves.”
“Hindi mo kailangang bumili ng kahit ano para sa
akin,” wika ni Johnsy. Siya ay tumingin muli sa bintana.
“May isa pang nahulog. Hindi, ayaw kong kumain ng kahit
na ano. Ngayon ay may apat na lamang. Gusto kong
masaksihan ang pagkahulog ng huling dahon bago
dumilim. Tapos, ako’y aalis na rin.”
“Johnsy, aking giliw,” sambit ni Sue,
“maipapangako mo ba sa akin na ipipikit mo ang iyong
mga mata at panatilihin ang mga itong nakapikit?
Maipapangako mo ba sa akin na hindi ka titingin sa
bintana hanggang sa matapos ako sa aking pagtatrabaho?
Kailangan kong matapos at maihanda ang larawang ito
para bukas. Kakailanganin ko ang ilaw; hindi ko pwedeng
takpan ang bintana.”
“Hindi ba pwedeng sa ibang silid ka magtrabaho?”
tanong ni Johnsy nang walang sigla.
“Mas gugustuhin kong naririto ako kasama ka,”
wika ni Sue. “At ayaw kong tumingin ka sa mga dahong
iyon.”
“Sabihin mo agad sa akin kapag ikaw ay tapos na,”
wika ni Johnsy. Ipinikit niya ang kanyang mga mata at
humiga. “Dahil nais kong makita ang pagkahulog ng huling
dahon. Pagod na ako sa kakahintay. Pagod na ako sa
kakaisip. Gusto ko na ring maglayag, katulad ng isa sa
mga dahong iyon.”
 “Try to sleep,” said Sue. “I must call Behrman to
come up here. I want to paint a man in this picture, and I’ll
make him look like Behrman. I won’t be gone a minute.
Don’t try to move till I come back.”
Old Behrman was a painter who lived on the first
floor of their house. He was past sixty. He had had no
success as a painter. For forty years he had painted,
without ever painting a good picture. He had always talked
of painting a great picture, a masterpiece, but he had
never yet started it.
He got a little money by letting others paint
pictures of him. He drank too much. He still talked of his
great masterpiece. And he believed that it was his special
duty to do everything possible to help Sue and Johnsy.
Sue found him in his dark room, and she knew that
he had been drinking. She could smell it. She told him
about Johnsy and the leaves on the vine. She said that she
was afraid that Johnsy would indeed sail down, down like
the leaf. Her hold on the world was growing weaker.
Old Behrman shouted his anger over such an idea.
“Subukan mong matulog,” wika ni Sue. “Kailangan
kong tawagan si Behrman para magtungo rito. Nais kong
magpinta ng isang lalaki sa larawang ito at si Behrman
ang gusto kong maging kamukha niya. Hindi ako
magtatagal. Huwag kang gagalaw hangga’t hindi ako
bumabalik.”
Si Ginoong Behrman ay isang pintor na naninirahan
sa unang palapag ng gusaling kanila ring tinitirhan. Siya
ay mahigit animnapung taong gulang na. Wala siyang
napagtagumpayan bilang pintor. Sa apatnapung taon na
kanyang pagpipinta, wala man lamang siyang naipinta na
maayos na larawan. Lagi niyang nababanggit ang gawa na
may magandang larawan, isang obra maestra, ngunit
hindi pa niya ito nasisimulan.
Kumikita siya ng pera sa pamamagitan ng
pagpipinta sa kanya ng ibang pintor. Lagi siyang umiinom.
Palagi niya pa ring nakukwento ang kanyang mga obra. At
naniniwala siyang ispesyal niyang tungkulin ang gawin
ang lahat ng posible para tulungan sina Sue at Johnsy.
Nakita siya ni Sue sa kanyang madilim na silid, at
nalaman niyang siya ay umiinom. Naaamoy niya ito. Sinabi
niya kay Berhman ang tungkol kay Johnsy at sa mga
dahon sa baging. Sinabi niya na natatakot siya na lumisan
din si Johnsy gaya ng pagkahulog ng dahon. Ang kanyang
pagkapit sa mundo ay lumuluwag.
Isinigaw ni Ginoong Berhman ang kanyang galit sa
kanyang narinig.
 “What!” he cried. “Are there such fools? Do people
die because leaves drop off a tree? I have not heard of
such a thing. No, I will not come up and sit while you make
a picture of me. Why do you allow her to think such a
thing? That poor little Johnsy!” “
“She is very sick and weak,” said Sue. “The sickness
has put these strange ideas into her mind. Mr. Behrman,
if you won’t come, you won’t. But I don’t think you’re very
nice.”
“This is like a woman!” shouted Behrman. “Who
said I will not come? Go. I come with you. For half an hour
I have been trying to say that I will come. God! This is not
any place for someone so good as Johnsy to lie sick.
Some day I shall paint my masterpiece, and we shall all
go away from here. God! Yes.”
Johnsy was sleeping when they went up. Sue
covered the window, and took Behrman into the other
room. There they looked out the window fearfully at the
tree. Then they looked at each other for a moment without
speaking. A cold rain was falling, with a little snow in it
too.
Behrman sat down, and Sue began to paint.
She worked through most of the night.
“Ano!” aniya. “May mga tao ba talagang tanga? May
mga namamatay ba dahil sa mga dahong nahuhulog mula
sa puno? Wala pa akong naririnig na ganyang bagay. Hindi,
hindi ako aakyat at uupo habang ipinipinta mo ako. Bakit
mo siya hinahayaang mag-isip ng ganoong bagay?
Kawawang Johnsy!”
“Siya ay may lubhang sakit at mahina,” wika ni Sue.
“Ang kanyang sakit ang nagpasok nitong mga kakaibang
ideya sa kanyang pag-iisip. Ginoong Behrman, kung hindi
ka sasama, huwag! Ngunit hindi ko alam kung mabuti
kang talaga.
“Ang babae nga naman!” sigaw ni Behrman. “Sino
ang nagsabi na hindi ako sasama? Tayo na. Ako ay sasama
sa iyo. Sa loob ng kalahating oras ay sinusubukan kong
sabihin sa iyo na ako ay pupunta. Diyos ko! Hindi ito ang
lugar para sa sinumang ‘sing buti ni Johnsy na
magkasakit. Balang araw ay maiipinta ko rin ang aking
obra, at lahat tayo ay lilisan. Diyos ko! Oo.”
Natutulog si Johnsy nang sila ay umakyat.
Tinakpan ni Sue ang bintana, at dinala sa ibang silid si
Behrman. Doon ay tinitigan nila sa bintana ang puno nang
may takot. Pagkatapos, sila ay sandaling nagkatitigan at
walang mga imik. Ang malamig na ulan ay bumuhos, na
may kasamang niyebe.
Umupo si Behrman, at nagsimula na sa pagpipinta
si Sue.
Halos magdamag na siyang nagtrabaho.
 In the morning, after an hour’s sleep, she went to
Johnsy’s bedside. Johnsy with wide-open eyes was
looking toward the window. “I want to see,” she told Sue.
Sue took the cover from the window.
But after the beating rain and the wild wind that
had not stopped through the whole night, there still was
one leaf to be seen against the wall. It was the last on the
tree. It was still dark green near the branch. But at the
edges it was turning yellow with age. There it was hanging
from a branch nearly twenty feet above the ground.
“It is the last one,” said Johnsy. “I thought it would
surely fall during the night. I heard the wind. It will fall
today, and I shall die at the same time.”
“Dear, dear Johnsy!” said Sue. “Think of me, if you
won’t think of yourself. What would I do?”
But Johnsy did not answer. The most lonely thing
in the world is a soul when it is preparing to go on its far
journey. The ties that held her to friendship and to earth
were breaking, one by one.
Nang pagkaumaga, pagkatapos ng isang oras na
pagtulog, siya ay nagtungo sa tabi ng kama ni Johnsy. Si
Johnsy na mulat na mulat ang mga mata ay nakatingin sa
bintana. “Gusto kong makita,” wika niya kay Sue.
Inalis ni Sue ang takip sa bintana.
Ngunit pagkatapos ng napakalakas na ulan at
matinding hangin na hindi tumigil buong gabi, may isang
dahon pa rin na makikita sa pader. Iyon na lamang ang
natitira sa puno. Ito ay kulay berde pa rin sa sanga. Ngunit
ang mga gilid nito ay naninilaw na. Ito ay nakadikit sa
sanga na nasa may dalawampung talampakan mula sa
lupa.
“Iyon na ang huli,” sabi ni Johnsy. “Akala ko ay
siguradong mahuhulog na iyon kagabi. Napakinggan ko
ang hangin. Ngayon iyon mahuhulog, at ako na rin ay
mamamatay.”
“Giliw ko, Johnsy!” wika ni Sue. “Isipin mo naman
ako, kung hindi mo iniisip ang iyong sarili. Ano ang aking
gagawin?”
Ngunit hindi sumagot si Johnsy. Ang
pinakamalungkot sa mundo ay ang kaluluwa na
naghahanda sa kanyang malayong paglalakbay. Ang tali
na sa kanilang pagkakaibigan at sa mundo na nakatali ay
unti-unti nang napuputol.
 The day slowly passed. As it grew dark, they could
still see the leaf hanging from its branch against the wall.
And then, as the night came, the north wind began again
to blow. The rain still beat against the windows.
When it was light enough the next morning, Johnsy
again commanded that she be allowed to see.
The leaf was still there.
Johnsy lay for a long time looking at it. And then
she called to Sue, who was cooking something for her to
eat.
“I’ve been a bad girl, Sue,” said Johnsy. “Something
has made that last leaf stay there to show me how bad I
was. It is wrong to want to die. I’ll try to eat now. But first
bring me a looking-glass, so that I can see myself. And
then I’ll sit up and watch you cook.”
An hour later she said, “Sue, some day I hope to
paint the Bay of Naples.”
The doctor came in the afternoon. Sue followed him
into the hall outside Johnsy’s room to talk to him.
“The chances are good,” said the doctor. He took
Sue’s thin, shaking hand in his. “Give her good care, and
she’ll get well. And now I must see another sick person in
this house. His name is Behrman. A painter, I believe.
Ang araw ay mabagal na lumipas. Habang
dumidilim, nakikita pa rin nila ang dahon sa sanga na nasa
pader. Pagkatapos, nang gumabi na, ang hanging amihan
ay nagsimulang umihip. Ang malakas na ulan ay
nagpatuloy sa pagbuhos sa mga bintana.
Nang lumiwanag kinabukasan, inutusan ni Johnsy
si Sue na buksan ang bintana para tingnan ang dahon.
Naroroon pa rin ang dahon.
Tinitigan ni Johnsy nang mahabang oras ang dahon
habang siya ay nakahiga. Pagkatapos, tinawag niya si Sue,
na nagluluto ng pagkain para sa kanya.
“Hindi ako naging mabuting babae, Sue,” wika ni
Johnsy. “May dahilan kung bakit nanatili ang dahong iyon
doon at iyon ay para ipakita sa akin kung gaano ako
kasama. Masamang isipin ang pagnanais na mamatay.
Simula ngayon, ako ay kakain na. Ngunit ikuha mo muna
ako ng salamin para makita ang aking sarili. Tapos, ako
ay uupo at panonoorin kang magluto.”
Paglipas ng isang oras, sinabi niya, “Sue, balang
araw maipipinta ko rin ang Look ng Naples.”
Dumating ang doktor noong tanghali. Sinundan
niya ito sa pasilya sa labas ng silid ni Johnsy para siya ay
kausapin.
“Ang pag-asa niya ay maganda,” sabi ng doktor.
Hinawakan niya ang manipis na nanginginig na kamay ni
Sue. “Alagaan mo siya, at siya ay gagaling. Ngayon, ako ay
aalis na at bibisitahin ko ang isa pang tao dito sa gusali na
may sakit. Behrman ang kanyang pangalan. Isang pintor.
Pneumonia, too. Mike is an old, weak man, and he is very
ill. There is no hope for him. But we take him to the
hospital today. We’ll make it as easy for him as we can.”
The next day the doctor said to Sue: “She’s safe. You
have done it. Food and care now—that’s all.”
And that afternoon Sue came to the bed where
Johnsy lay. She put one arm around her.
“I have something to tell you,” she said. “Mr.
Behrman died of pneumonia today in the hospital. He was
ill only two days. Someone found him on the morning of
the first day, in his room. He was helpless with pain.”
“His shoes and his clothes were wet and as cold as
ice. Everyone wondered where he had been. The night had
been so cold and wild.
“And then they found some things. There was a
light that he had taken outside. And there were his
materials for painting. There was paint, green paint and
yellow paint. And—
Pulmonya rin. Si Mike ay isang matanda, mahinang
tao, at siya ay may malubhang sakit. Wala na siyang pag-
asa. Ngunit dadalhin namin siya sa ospital ngayon.
Gagawin namin ang aming makakaya para gawin itong
madali para sa kanya.
Noong sumunod na araw, sinabi ng doktor kay Sue:
“Ligtas na siya. Nagawa mo. Pagkain at pag-aalaga—iyon
lamang.”
At noong tanghali, lumapit si Sue sa kama kung
saan nakahiga si Johnsy. Inilagay niya ang kanyang braso
sa palibot ni Johnsy.
“May nais akong sabihin sa iyo,” wika niya. “Si
Ginoong Behrman ay pumanaw na ngayon sa ospital dahil
sa pulmonya. Siya ay may sakit ng dalawang araw. May
nakakita sa kanya noong unang araw, sa kanya silid. Siya
ay kaawa-awang naghihirap.”
“Ang kanyang mga sapatos at mga damit ay basa
at kasing lamig ng yelo. Lahat ay nagtataka kung saan siya
nanggaling. Noong gabi bago ang araw na iyon ay
napakalamig at napakatindi.
“At may mga natagpuan silang mga kagamitan. May
ilaw siyang dinala sa labas. Naroroon din ang kaniyang
mga materyales sa pagpipinta. May pintura, berde at dilaw
na pintura. At—
 “Look out the window, dear, at the last leaf on the
wall. Didn’t you wonder why it never moved when the wind
was blowing? Oh, my dear, it is Behrman’s great
masterpiece—he painted it there the night that the last
leaf fell.”
“Tumingin ka sa bintana, giliw ko, sa dahon na nasa
pader. Hindi ka ba nagtataka kung bakit hindi man lang ito
nahulog nang umihip nang malakas ang hangin? O, aking
giliw, iyon ay ang dakilang obra maestra ni Ginoong
Behrman—ipininta niya iyon noong gabing nahulog ang
huling dahon.”