最后一片叶子英语原文

Henry

InalittledistrictwestofWashingtonSquarethestreetshaveruncrazyandbrokenthemselvesintosmallstriscalled

"laces

".These

"laces

"makestrangeanglesandcurves.OneStreetcrossesitselfatimeortwo.Anartistoncediscoveredavaluableossibilityinthisstreet.Suoseacollectorwithabillforaints,aerandcanvasshould,intraversingthisroute,suddenlymeethimselfcomingback,withoutacenthavingbeenaidonaccount!

So,toquaintoldGreenwichVillagethearteolesooncamerowling,huntingfornorthwindowsandeighteenth-centurygablesandDutchatticsandlowrents.ThentheyimortedsomeewtermugsandachafingdishortwofromSixthAvenue,andbecamea

"colony

".

Atthetoofasquatty,three-storybrickSueandJohnsyhadtheirstudio.

"Johnsy

"wasfamiliarforJoanna.OnewasfromMaine;theotherfromCalifornia.Theyhadmetatthetabled&aos;hoteofanEighthStreet

"Delmonico&aos;s

",andfoundtheirtastesinart,chicorysaladandbishosleevessocongenialthatthejointstudioresulted.

ThatwasinMay.InNovemberacold,unseenstranger,whomthedoctorscalledPneumonia,stalkedaboutthecolony,touchingonehereandtherewithhisicyfingers.Overontheeastsidethisravagerstrodeboldly,smitinghisvictimsbyscores,buthisfeettrodslowlythroughthemazeofthenarrowandmoss-grown

"laces

".

Mr.Pneumoniawasnotwhatyouwouldcallachivalricoldgentleman.AmiteofalittlewomanwithbloodthinnedbyCaliforniazehyrswashardlyfairgameforthered-fisted,short-breathedoldduffer.ButJohnsyshesmote;andshelay,scarcelymoving,onheraintedironbedstead,lookingthroughthesmallDutchwindow-anesattheblanksideofthenextbrickhouse.

OnemorningthebusydoctorinvitedSueintothehallwaywithashaggy,grayeyebrow.

"Shehasonechancein-letussay,ten,

"hesaid,asheshookdownthemercuryinhisclinicalthermometer.

"Andthatchanceisforhertowanttolive.Thiswayeolehaveoflining-uonthesideoftheundertakermakestheentireharmacooeialooksilly.Yourlittleladyhasmadeuhermindthatshe&aos;snotgoingtogetwell.Hassheanythingonhermind?

"

"She-shewantedtoainttheBayofNalessomeday.

"saidSue.

"Paint?-bosh!Hassheanythingonhermindworththinkingabluttwice-amanforinstance?

"

"Aman?

"saidSue,withajew&aos;s-hartwanginhervoice.

"Isamanworth-but,no,doctor;thereisnothingofthekind.

"

"Well,itistheweakness,then,

"saidthedoctor.

"Iwilldoallthatscience,sofarasitmayfilterthroughmyefforts,canaccomlish.ButwhenevermyatientbeginstocountthecarriagesinherfuneralrocessionIsubtract50ercentfromthecurativeowerofmedicines.IfyouwillgethertoaskonequestionaboutthenewwinterstylesincloaksleevesIwillromiseyouaone-in-fivechanceforher,insteadofoneinten.

"

AfterthedoctorhadgoneSuewentintotheworkroomandcriedaJaanesenakintoaul.ThensheswaggeredintoJohnsy&aos;sroomwithherdrawingboard,whistlingragtime.

Johnsylay,scarcelymakingarileunderthebedclothes,withherfacetowardthewindow.Suestoedwhistling,thinkingshewasaslee.

Shearrangedherboardandbeganaen-and-inkdrawingtoillustrateamagazinestory.YoungartistsmustavetheirwaytoArtbydrawingicturesformagazinestoriesthatyoungauthorswritetoavetheirwaytoLiterature.

AsSuewassketchingaairofeleganthorseshowridingtrousersandamonocleonthefigureofthehero,anIdahocowboy,sheheardalowsound,severaltimesreeated.Shewentquicklytothebedside.

Johnsy&aos;seyeswereoenwide.Shewaslookingoutthewindowandcounting-countingbackward.

"Twelve,

"shesaid,andlittlelater

"eleven

";andthen

"ten,

"and

"nine

";andthen

"eight

"and

"seven

",almosttogether.

Suelooksolicitouslyoutofthewindow.Whatwastheretocount?Therewasonlyabare,drearyyardtobeseen,andtheblanksideofthebrickhousetwentyfeetaway.Anold,oldivyvine,gnarledanddecayedattheroots,climbedhalfwayuthebrickwall.Thecoldbreathofautumnhadstrickenitsleavesfromthevineuntilitsskeletonbranchesclung,almostbare,tothecrumblingbricks.

"Whatisit,dear?

"askedSue.

"Six,

"saidJohnsy,inalmostawhiser.

"They&aos;refallingfasternow.Threedaysagotherewerealmostahundred.Itmademyheadachetocountthem.Butnowit&aos;seasy.Theregoesanotherone.Thereareonlyfiveleftnow.

"

"Fivewhat,dear?TellyourSudie.

"

"Leaves.Ontheivyvine.WhenthelastonefallsImustgo,too.I&aos;veknownthatforthreedays.Didn&aos;tthedoctortellyou?

"

"Oh,Ineverheardofsuchnonsense,

"comlainedSue,withmagnificentscorn.

"Whathaveoldivyleavestodowithyourgettingwell?Andyouusedtolovethatvineso,younaughtygirl.Don&aos;tbeagoosey.Why,thedoctortoldmethismorningthatyourchancesforgettingwellrealsoonwere-let&aos;sseeexactlywhathesaid-hesaidthechancesweretentoone!Why,that&aos;salmostasgoodachanceaswehaveinNewYorkwhenwerideonthestreetcarsorwalkastanewbuilding.Trytotakesomebrothnow,andletSudiegobacktoherdrawing,soshecanselltheeditormanwithit,andbuyortwineforhersickchild,andorkchosforhergreedyself.

"

"Youneedn&aos;tgetanymorewine,

"saidJohnsy,keeinghereyesfixedoutthewindow.

"Theregoesanother.No,Idon&aos;twantanybroth.Thatleavesjustfour.Iwanttoseethelastonefallbeforeitgetsdark.ThenI&aos;llgo,too.

"

"Johnsy,dear,

"saidSue,bendingoverher,

"willyouromisemetokeeyoureyesclosed,andnotlookoutthewindowuntilIamdoneworking?Imusthandthosedrawingsinbytomorrow.Ineedthelight,orIwoulddrawtheshadedown.

"

"Couldn&aos;tyoudrawintheotherroom?

"askedJohnsy,coldly.

"I&aos;dratherbeherebyyou,

"saidSue.

"Beside,Idon&aos;twantyoutokeelookingatthosesillyivyleaves.

"

"Tellmeassoonasyouhavefinished,

"saidJohnsy,closinghereyes,andlyingwhiteandstillasfallenstatue,

"becauseIwanttoseethelastonefall.I&aos;mtiredofwaiting.I&aos;mtiredofthinking.Iwanttoturnloosemyholdoneverything,andgosailingdown,down,justlikeoneofthoseoor,tiredleaves.

"

"Trytoslee,

"saidSue.

"ImustcallBehrmanutobemymodelfortheoldhermitminer.I&aos;llnotbegoneaminute.Don&aos;ttrytomove&aos;tilIcomeback.

"

OldBehrmanwasaainterwholivedonthegroundfloorbeneaththem.HewasastsixtyandhadaMichaelAngelo&aos;sMosesbeardcurlingdownfromtheheadofasatyralongthebodyofanim.Behrmanwasafailureinart.FortyyearshehadwieldedthebrushwithoutgettingnearenoughtotouchthehemofhisMistress&aos;srobe.Hehadbeenalwaysabouttoaintamasteriece,buthadneveryetbegunit.Forseveralyearshehadaintednothingexcetnowandthenadaubinthelineofcommerceoradvertising.Heearnedalittlebyservingasamodeltothoseyoungartistsinthecolonywhocouldnotaythericeofarofessional.Hedrankgintoexcess,andstilltalkedofhiscomingmasteriece.Fortheresthewasafiercelittleoldman,whoscoffedterriblyatsoftnessinanyone,andwhoregardedhimselfasesecialmastiff-in-waitingtorotectthetwoyoungartistsinthestudioabove.

SuefoundBehrmansmellingstronglyofjunierberriesinhisdimlylighteddenbelow.Inonecornerwasablankcanvasonaneaselthathadbeenwaitingtherefortwenty-fiveyearstoreceivethefirstlineofthemasteriece.ShetoldhimofJohnsy&aos;sfancy,andhowshefearedshewould,indeed,lightandfragileasaleafherself,floataway,whenherslightholduontheworldgrewweaker.

OldBehrman,withhisredeyeslainlystreaming,shoutedhiscontemtandderisionforsuchidioticimaginings.

"Vass!

"hecried.

"Isdereeoleindeworldmitderfoolishnesstodiebecauseleafsdeydroofffromaconfoundedvine?Ihafnotheardofsuchathing.No,Iwillnotboseasamodelforyourfoolhermit-dunderhead.Vydoyouallowdotsillyusinesstocomeinderbrainofher?Ach,dotoorleetleMissYohnsy.

"

"Sheisveryillandweak,

"saidSue,

"andthefeverhaslefthermindmorbidandfullofstrangefancies.Verywell,Mr.Behrman,ifyoudonotcaretooseforme,youneedn&aos;t.ButIthinkyouareahorridold-oldflibbertigibbet.

"

"Youarejustlikeawoman!

"yelledBehrman.

"WhosaidIwillnotbose?Goon.Icomemityou.ForhalfanhourIhafeentryingtosaydotIamreadytobose.Gott!DisisnotanyblaceinwhichonesogootasMissYohnsyshallliesick.SomedayIvillbaintamasteriece,andveshallallgoaway.Gott!Yes.

"

Johnsywassleeingwhentheywentustairs.Sueulledtheshadedowntothewindow-sill,andmotionedBehrmanintotheotherroom.Intheretheyeeredoutthewindowfearfullyattheivyvine.Thentheylookedateachotherforamomentwithoutseaking.Aersistent,coldrainwasfalling,mingledwithsnow.Behrman,inhisoldblueshirt,tookhisseatasthehermitmineronanuturnedkettleforarock.

WhenSueawokefromanhour&aos;ssleethenextmorningshefoundJohnsywithdull,wide-oeneyesstaringatthedrawngreenshade.

"Pullitu;Iwanttosee,

"sheordered,inawhiser.

WearilySueobeyed.

But,look!Afterthebeatingrainandfiercegustsofwindthathadenduredthroughthelivelongnight,thereyetstoodoutagainstthebrickwalloneivyleaf.Itwasthelastoneonthevine.Stilldarkgreennearitsstem,butwithitsserratededgestintedwiththeyellowofdissolutionanddecay,ithungbravelyfromabranchsometwentyfeetabovetheground.

"Itisthelastone,

"saidJohnsy.

"Ithoughtitwouldsurelyfallduringthenight.Iheardthewind.Itwillfalltoday,andIshalldieatthesametime.

"

"Dear,dear!

"saidSue,leaningherwornfacedowntotheillow,

"thinkofme,ifyouwon&aos;tthinkofyourself.WhatwouldIdo?

"

ButJohnsydidnotanswer.Thelonesomestthinginalltheworldisasoulwhenitismakingreadytogoonitsmysterious,farjourney.Thefancyseemedtoossesshermorestronglyasonebyonethetiesthatboundhertofriendshiandtoearthwereloosed.

Thedayworeaway,andeventhroughthetwilighttheycouldseetheloneivyleafclingingtoitsstemagainstthewall.Andthen,withthecomingofthenightthenorthwindwasagainloosed,whiletherainstillbeatagainstthewindowsandattereddownfromthelowDutcheaves.

WhenitwaslightenoughJohnsy,themerciless,commandedthattheshadeberaised.Theivyleafwasstillthere.

Johnsylayforalongtimelookingatit.AndthenshecalledtoSue,whowasstirringherchickenbrothoverthegasstove.

"I&aos;vebeenabadgirl,Sudie,

"saidJohnsy.

"SomethinghasmadethatlastleafstaytheretoshowmehowwickedIwas.Itisasintowanttodie.Youmaybringmealittlebrothnow,andsomemilkwithalittleortinit,and-no;bringmeahand-mirrorfirst,andthenacksomeillowsaboutme,andIwillsituandwatchyoucook.

"

Andhourlatershesaid:

"Sudie,somedayIhoetoainttheBayofNales.

"

Thedoctorcameintheafternoon,andSuehadanexcusetogointothehallwayasheleft.

"Evenchances,

"saidthedoctor,takingSue&aos;sthin,shakinghandinhis.

"Withgoodnursingyou&aos;llwin.

"AndnowImustseeanothercaseIhavedownstairs.Behrman,hisnameis-somekindofanartist,Ibelieve.Pneumonia,too.Heisanold,weakman,andtheattackisacute.Thereisnohoeforhim;buthegoestothehositaltodaytobemademorecomfortable.

"

ThenextdaythedoctorsaidtoSue,

"She&aos;soutofdanger.You&aos;vewon.Nutritionandcarenow-that&aos;sall.

"

AndthatafternoonSuecametothebedwhereJohnsylay,contentedlyknittingaveryblueandveryuselesswoollenshoulderscarf,andutonearmaroundher,illowsandall.

"Ihavesomethingtotellyou,whitemouse,

"shesaid.

"Mr.Behrmandiedofneumoniatodayinthehosital.Hewasillonlytwodays.Thejanitorfoundhimonthemorningofthefirstdayinhisroomdownstairshellesswithain.Hisshoesandclothingwerewetthroughandicycold.Theycouldn&aos;timaginewherehehadbeenonsuchadreadfulnight.Andthentheyfoundalantern,stilllighted,andaladderthathadbeendraggedfromitslace,andsomescatteredbrushes,andaalettewithgreenandyellowcolorsmixedonit,and-lookoutthewindow,dear,atthelastivyleafonthewall.Didn&aos;tyouwonderwhyitneverflutteredormovedwhenthewindblew?Ah,darling,it&aos;sBehrman&aos;smasteriece-heaintedittherethenightthatthelastleaffell.

"...