'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. 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 no success as a painter. He always talked of painting a great picture, a masterpiece, but he never yet started it. He got a little money by letting others paint pictures of him. And he believed it was his special duty to do everything possible to help Sue and Johnsy.
Sue found him in his dark room. She told him about Johnsy and the leaves on the vine.
'What!' he cried. 'Are there such fools? Do people die because leaves drop off a tree? I have not heard of such a thing. Why do you allow her to think such a thing? That poor little Johnsy!'
' She is very sick and weak', said Sue. ' The sickness had put these strange things into her mind.'
Johnsy was sleeping when they went up. Sue covered the window, and took Behrman into the other room. There they looked out of the window fearfully at the tree. Then they loomed at each other for a moment without speaking.
Sue worked through most of the night.
In the morning, after an hour's sleep , she went to Johnsy's bedside. Johnsy with wide open eyes was looking towards 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 was still one leaf to be seen against the wall. It was the last leaf on the tree.
' 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 day slowly passed . As it grew dark, they could still see the leaf hanging from its branch against the wall. And then, 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 there 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 leaf stay there to show me how bad I was. 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, someday I hope to paint the Bay of Naples'.
The doctor came in the afternoon.
'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. Pneumonia, too. Unfortunately, there is no hope for him. But we will take him to the hospital today. We'll make it 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 an arm around her.
'I have something to tell you', she said . 'Mr Behrman died of pneumonia today in the hospital. He was ill only for two days. Someone found him on the morning of tbe first day, in his room. He was helpless with pain. His shoes and 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 he had taken outside. And there was his materials for painting. There was paint, green paint and yellow paint. And-
'Look out of 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 the last leaf fell'.
-adapted from the short story by O Henry.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR :-
O Henry (1862-1910) was the pen name of the American writer , William Sydney Porter. His short stories are famous for their wit, word play, life-like characters and unexpected end to a gripping story. His short stories, including the well-loved, 'The Gift Of The Magi', 'After Twenty Years', 'The Ransom Of Red Chief' and 'The Cop And The Anthem' are widely read and appreciated even today.
The End.
A/N: This is a short story written by Sir O Henry. I fell in love on reading it and hence, I wrote it here to share it with you guys and also to appreciate the work of Sir O Henry 😊
I hope you enjoyed it ❤️ Do leave a comment on your favourite part and don't forget to vote as well, it really means a lot to me 💝
Also I appreciate your precious time on reading it. Thank you so much! ❤️
Love you all! 💗
Byee! 👋
