The Last Leaf by O Henry

"The Last Leaf" is a short story by O. Henry, first published in 1905 in the New York World and later included in his 1907 book, The Trimmed Lamp and Other Stories. The story takes place in Greenwich Village, New York, and follows two young artists, Johnsy and Sue, and their old neighbor, Behrman. When Johnsy falls very sick with pneumonia, she starts believing that when the last leaf falls off a vine outside her window, she will die too. The story shows how Behrman makes a big sacrifice to give Johnsy hope. With a surprise ending, O. Henry highlights themes of friendship, hope, and the power of kindness.

Text of the Story

In a little district west of Washington Square, the streets have run crazy and broken themselves into small strips called "places." These "places" make strange angles and curves. One Street crosses itself a time or two. An artist once discovered a valuable possibility in this street. Suppose a collector with a bill for paints, paper and canvas should, in traversing this route, suddenly meet himself coming back, without a cent having been paid on account!

So, to quaint old Greenwich Village the art people soon came prowling, hunting for north windows and eighteenth-century gables and Dutch attics and low rents. Then they imported some pewter mugs and a chafing dish or two from Sixth Avenue, and became a "colony."

At the top of a squatty, three-story brick Sue and Johnsy had their studio. "Johnsy" was familiar for Joanna. One was from Maine; the other from California. They had met at the table d'hôte of an Eighth Street "Delmonico's," and found their tastes in art, chicory salad and bishop sleeves so congenial that the joint studio resulted.

That was in May. In November a cold, unseen stranger, whom the doctors called Pneumonia, stalked about the colony, touching one here and there with his icy fingers. Over on the east side this ravager strode boldly, smiting his victims by scores, but his feet trod slowly through the maze of the narrow and moss-grown "places."

Mr. Pneumonia was not what you would call a chivalric old gentleman. A mite of a little woman with blood thinned by California zephyrs was hardly fair game for the red-fisted, short-breathed old duffer. But Johnsy he smote; and she lay, scarcely moving, on her painted iron bedstead, looking through the small Dutch window-panes at the blank side of the next brick house.

One morning the busy doctor invited Sue into the hallway with a shaggy, grey eyebrow.

"She has one chance in - let us say, ten," he said, as he shook down the mercury in his clinical thermometer. " And that chance is for her to want to live. This way people have of lining-u on the side of the undertaker makes the entire pharmacopoeia look silly. Your little lady has made up her mind that she's not going to get well. Has she anything on her mind?"

"She - she wanted to paint the Bay of Naples some day." said Sue.

"Paint? - bosh! Has she anything on her mind worth thinking twice - a man for instance?"

"A man?" said Sue, with a jew's-harp twang in her voice. "Is a man worth - but, no, doctor; there is nothing of the kind."

"Well, it is the weakness, then," said the doctor. "I will do all that science, so far as it may filter through my efforts, can accomplish. But whenever my patient begins to count the carriages in her funeral procession I subtract 50 per cent from the curative power of medicines. 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, instead of one in ten."

After the doctor had gone Sue went into the workroom and cried a Japanese napkin to a pulp. Then she swaggered into Johnsy's room with her drawing board, whistling ragtime.

Johnsy lay, scarcely making a ripple under the bedclothes, with her face toward the window. Sue stopped whistling, thinking she was asleep.

She arranged her board and began a pen-and-ink drawing to illustrate a magazine story. Young artists must pave their way to Art by drawing pictures for magazine stories that young authors write to pave their way to Literature.

As Sue was sketching a pair of elegant horseshow riding trousers and a monocle of the figure of the hero, an Idaho cowboy, she heard a low sound, several times repeated. She went quickly to the bedside.

Johnsy's eyes were open wide. She was looking out the window and counting - counting backward.

"Twelve," she said, and little later "eleven"; and then "ten," and "nine"; and then "eight" and "seven", almost together.

Sue look solicitously out of the window. What was there to count? There was only a bare, dreary yard to be seen, and the blank side of the brick house twenty feet away. An old, old ivy vine, gnarled and decayed at the roots, climbed half way up the brick wall. The cold breath of autumn had stricken its leaves from the vine until its skeleton branches clung, almost bare, to the crumbling bricks.

"What is it, dear?" asked Sue.

"Six," said Johnsy, in almost a whisper. "They're falling faster now. Three days ago there were almost a hundred. It made my head ache to count them. But now it's easy. There goes another one. There are only five left now."

"Five what, dear? Tell your Sudie."

"Leaves. On the ivy vine. 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 nonsense," complained Sue, with magnificent scorn. "What have old ivy leaves to do with your getting well? And you used to love that vine so, you naughty girl. Don't be a goosey. Why, the doctor told me this morning that your chances for getting well real soon were - let's see exactly what he said - he said the chances were ten to one! Why, 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. Try to take some broth now, and let Sudie go back to her drawing, so she can sell the editor man with it, and buy port wine for her sick child, and pork chops for her greedy self."

"You needn't get any more wine," said Johnsy, keeping her eyes fixed out the window. "There goes another. No, I don't want any broth. That leaves just four. I want to see the last one fall before it gets dark. Then I'll go, too."

"Johnsy, dear," said Sue, bending over her, "will you promise me to keep your eyes closed, and not look out the window until I am done working? I must hand those drawings in by to-morrow. I need the light, or I would draw the shade down."

"Couldn't you draw in the other room?" asked Johnsy, coldly.

"I'd rather be here by you," said Sue. "Beside, I don't want you to keep looking at those silly ivy leaves."

"Tell me as soon as you have finished," said Johnsy, closing her eyes, and lying white and still as fallen statue, "because I want to see the last one fall. I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of thinking. I want to turn loose my hold on everything, and go sailing down, down, just like one of those poor, tired leaves."

"Try to sleep," said Sue. "I must call Behrman up to be my model for the old hermit miner. I'll not be gone a minute. Don't try to move 'til I come back."

Old Behrman was a painter who lived on the ground floor beneath them. 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. Behrman was a failure in art. Forty years he had wielded the brush without getting near enough to touch the hem of his Mistress's robe. He had been always about to paint a masterpiece, but had never yet begun it. For several years he had painted nothing except now and then a daub in the line of commerce or advertising. 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 drank gin to excess, and still talked of his coming masterpiece. For the rest he was a fierce little old man, who scoffed terribly at softness in any one, and who regarded himself as especial mastiff-in-waiting to protect the two young artists in the studio above.

Sue found Behrman smelling strongly of juniper berries in his dimly lighted den below. 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. She told him of Johnsy's fancy, and how she feared she would, indeed, light and fragile as a leaf herself, float away, when her slight hold upon the world grew weaker.

Old Behrman, with his red eyes plainly streaming, shouted his contempt and derision for such idiotic imaginings.

"Vass!" he cried. "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. No, I will not bose as a model for your fool hermit-dunderhead. Vy do you allow dot silly pusiness to come in der brain of her? Ach, dot poor leetle Miss Yohnsy."

"She is very ill and weak," said Sue, "and the fever has left her mind morbid and full of strange fancies. Very well, Mr. Behrman, if you do not care to pose for me, you needn't. But I think you are a horrid old - old flibbertigibbet."

"You are just like a woman!" yelled Behrman. "Who said I will not bose? Go on. I come mit you. For half an hour I haf peen trying to say dot I am ready to bose. Gott! dis is not any blace in which one so goot as Miss Yohnsy shall lie sick. Some day I vill baint a masterpiece, and ve shall all go away. Gott! yes."

Johnsy was sleeping when they went upstairs. Sue pulled the shade down to the window-sill, and motioned Behrman into the other room. In there they peered out the window fearfully at the ivy vine. Then they looked at each other for a moment without speaking. A persistent, cold rain was falling, mingled with snow. Behrman, in his old blue shirt, took his seat as the hermit miner on an upturned kettle for a rock.

When Sue awoke from an hour's sleep the next morning she found Johnsy with dull, wide-open eyes staring at the drawn green shade.

"Pull it up; I want to see," she ordered, in a whisper.

Wearily Sue obeyed.

But, lo! after the beating rain and fierce gusts of wind that had endured through the livelong night, there yet stood out against the brick wall one ivy leaf. It was the last one on the vine. Still dark green near its stem, with its serrated edges tinted with the yellow of dissolution and decay, it hung bravely from the branch some 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 to-day, and I shall die at the same time."

"Dear, dear!" said Sue, leaning her worn face down to the pillow, "think of me, if you won't think of yourself. What would I do?"

But Johnsy did not answer. The lonesomest thing in all the world is a soul when it is making ready to go on its mysterious, far journey. The fancy seemed to possess her more strongly as one by one the ties that bound her to friendship and to earth were loosed.

The day wore away, and even through the twilight they could see the lone ivy leaf clinging to its stem against the wall. And then, with the coming of the night the north wind was again loosed, while the rain still beat against the windows and pattered down from the low Dutch eaves.

When it was light enough Johnsy, the merciless, commanded that the shade be raised.

The ivy leaf was still there.

Johnsy lay for a long time looking at it. And then she called to Sue, who was stirring her chicken broth over the gas stove.

"I've been a bad girl, Sudie," said Johnsy. "Something has made that last leaf stay there to show me how wicked I was. It is a sin to want to die. You may bring a me a little broth now, and some milk with a little port in it, and - no; bring me a hand-mirror first, and then pack some pillows about me, and I will sit up and watch you cook."

And hour later she said:

"Sudie, some day I hope to paint the Bay of Naples."

The doctor came in the afternoon, and Sue had an excuse to go into the hallway as he left.

"Even chances," said the doctor, taking Sue's thin, shaking hand in his. "With good nursing you'll win." And now I must see another case I have downstairs. Behrman, his name is - some kind of an artist, I believe. Pneumonia, too. He is an old, weak man, and the attack is acute. There is no hope for him; but he goes to the hospital to-day to be made more comfortable."

The next day the doctor said to Sue: "She's out of danger. You won. Nutrition and care now - that's all."

And that afternoon Sue came to the bed where Johnsy lay, contentedly knitting a very blue and very useless woollen shoulder scarf, and put one arm around her, pillows and all.

"I have something to tell you, white mouse," she said. "Mr. Behrman died of pneumonia to-day in the hospital. He was ill only two days. The janitor found him the morning of the first day in his room downstairs helpless with pain. His shoes and clothing were wet through and icy cold. They couldn't imagine where he had been on such a dreadful night. And then they found a lantern, still lighted, and a ladder that had been dragged from its place, and some scattered brushes, and a palette with green and yellow colours mixed on it, and - look out the window, dear, at the last ivy leaf on the wall. Didn't you wonder why it never fluttered or moved when the wind blew? Ah, darling, it's Behrman's masterpiece - he painted it there the night that the last leaf fell."

Translation in Hindi

वाशिंगटन स्क्वायर के पश्चिम में एक छोटे से जिले में, सड़कें पागल हो गई हैं और खुद को छोटी-छोटी पट्टियों में तोड़ चुकी हैं जिन्हें "स्थान" कहा जाता है। ये "स्थान" अजीब कोण और मोड़ बनाते हैं। एक सड़क एक या दो बार खुद को पार करती है। एक कलाकार ने एक बार इस गली में एक मूल्यवान संभावना की खोज की थी। मान लीजिए कि पेंट, कागज और कैनवस के बिल के साथ एक कलेक्टर, इस मार्ग को पार करते हुए, अचानक वापस आ जाता है, खाते में एक प्रतिशत का भुगतान किए बिना!

इसलिए, कला से जुड़े लोग जल्द ही विलक्षण पुराने ग्रीनविच विलेज में उत्तरी खिड़कियों और अठारहवीं सदी के गैबल्स और डच अटारियों और कम किराए की तलाश में घूमने आए। फिर उन्होंने सिक्स्थ एवेन्यू से कुछ प्युटर मग और एक या दो चाफिंग डिश आयात किए, और एक "कॉलोनी" बन गए।

एक कच्ची, तीन मंजिला ईंट की छत पर सू और जॉन्सी का स्टूडियो था। जोआना के लिए "जॉन्सी" परिचित था। एक मेन से था; दूसरा कैलिफोर्निया से. वे आठवीं स्ट्रीट "डेल्मोनिको" के टेबल डी'होटे पर मिले थे और उन्हें कला, चिकोरी सलाद और बिशप स्लीव्स में उनका स्वाद इतना अनुकूल लगा कि संयुक्त स्टूडियो का परिणाम हुआ।

वह मई में था. नवंबर में एक ठंडा, अनदेखा अजनबी, जिसे डॉक्टर निमोनिया कहते थे, कॉलोनी में इधर-उधर घूमता रहा और अपनी बर्फीली उंगलियों से यहां-वहां किसी को छूता रहा। पूर्व की ओर यह उपद्रवी साहसपूर्वक आगे बढ़ा, अपने पीड़ितों को कई लोगों ने मारा, लेकिन उसके पैर धीरे-धीरे संकरी और काई से उगी "स्थानों" की भूलभुलैया से गुज़रे।

मिस्टर निमोनिया वह नहीं थे जिन्हें आप शूरवीर वृद्ध सज्जन कहेंगे। कैलिफ़ोर्निया ज़ेफिर्स द्वारा पतला खून वाली एक छोटी महिला का घुन लाल-मुट्ठी वाले, कम सांस वाले बूढ़े डफ़र के लिए शायद ही उचित खेल था। परन्तु जॉन्सी को उसने मार डाला; और वह अपने रंगे हुए लोहे के बिस्तर पर लेटी हुई, मुश्किल से हिल रही थी, अगले ईंट के घर के खाली हिस्से में छोटी डच खिड़की के शीशों से देख रही थी।

एक सुबह व्यस्त डॉक्टर ने सू को झबरा, भूरे रंग की भौंह के साथ दालान में आमंत्रित किया।

"उसके पास एक मौका है - मान लीजिए, दस," उन्होंने कहा, जब उन्होंने अपने क्लिनिकल थर्मामीटर में पारा को हिलाया। "और वह मौका उसके जीने की चाहत का है। इस तरह से लोगों का अंडरटेकर के पक्ष में लाइन-अप करना पूरे फार्माकोपिया को मूर्खतापूर्ण बनाता है। आपकी छोटी महिला ने अपना मन बना लिया है कि वह ठीक नहीं होने वाली है। क्या उसके मन में कुछ है?"

"वह - वह किसी दिन नेपल्स की खाड़ी को चित्रित करना चाहती थी।" सू ने कहा।

"पेंट? - बोश! क्या उसके मन में दो बार सोचने लायक कोई बात है - उदाहरण के लिए एक आदमी?"

"एक आदमी?" सू ने कहा, उसकी आवाज़ में यहूदी-वीणा की खनक थी। "क्या एक आदमी लायक है - लेकिन, नहीं, डॉक्टर; ऐसा कुछ भी नहीं है।"

"तो फिर, यह कमजोरी है," डॉक्टर ने कहा। "मैं वह सब करूँगा जो विज्ञान, जहाँ तक यह मेरे प्रयासों से फ़िल्टर कर सकता है, पूरा कर सकता है। लेकिन जब भी मेरा मरीज़ अपने अंतिम संस्कार के जुलूस में गाड़ियों को गिनना शुरू करता है, तो मैं दवाओं की उपचारात्मक शक्ति से 50 प्रतिशत घटा देता हूँ। यदि आप उसे लबादे की आस्तीन में नई शीतकालीन शैलियों के बारे में एक प्रश्न पूछने के लिए कहेंगे, तो मैं आपको उसके लिए दस में से एक के बजाय पाँच में से एक मौका देने का वादा करूँगा।"

डॉक्टर के जाने के बाद सू कार्यस्थल में गई और एक जापानी रुमाल को लुगदी में लपेट कर रोने लगी। फिर वह अपने ड्राइंग बोर्ड के साथ रैगटाइम सीटी बजाते हुए जॉन्सी के कमरे में घुस गई।

जॉन्सी बिस्तर के कपड़ों के नीचे मुश्किल से कोई तरंग बना रही थी, उसका चेहरा खिड़की की ओर था। सू ने यह सोचकर सीटी बजाना बंद कर दिया कि वह सो रही है।

उसने अपना बोर्ड व्यवस्थित किया और एक पत्रिका की कहानी को दर्शाने के लिए कलम और स्याही से चित्र बनाना शुरू किया। युवा कलाकारों को पत्रिका की कहानियों के लिए चित्र बनाकर कला की ओर अपना मार्ग प्रशस्त करना चाहिए जो युवा लेखक साहित्य के लिए अपना मार्ग प्रशस्त करने के लिए लिखते हैं।

जब सू एक सुंदर घुड़सवारी पतलून और नायक, एक इदाहो चरवाहे की आकृति का एक मोनोकल का स्केच बना रही थी, उसने एक धीमी आवाज़ सुनी, जिसे कई बार दोहराया गया। वह जल्दी से बिस्तर के पास चली गयी.

जॉन्सी की आँखें खुली की खुली रह गईं। वह खिड़की से बाहर देख रही थी और उल्टी गिनती गिन रही थी।

"बारह," उसने कहा, और थोड़ी देर बाद "ग्यारह"; और फिर "दस," और "नौ"; और फिर "आठ" और "सात", लगभग एक साथ।

सू ने खिड़की से बाहर गंभीरता से देखा। इसमें गिनाने को क्या था? वहाँ केवल एक खाली, नीरस आंगन दिखाई दे रहा था, और बीस फीट दूर ईंट के घर का खाली हिस्सा। एक पुरानी, ​​पुरानी आइवी लता, जड़ों से कटी हुई और सड़ी हुई, ईंट की दीवार के आधे हिस्से तक चढ़ गई। पतझड़ की ठंडी साँस ने इसकी पत्तियों को बेल से तब तक झकझोर दिया था जब तक कि इसकी कंकाल शाखाएँ, लगभग नंगी, ढहती ईंटों से चिपक नहीं गईं।

"यह क्या है, प्रिय?" सू ने पूछा।

"छह," जॉन्सी ने लगभग फुसफुसाते हुए कहा। "वे अब तेजी से गिर रहे हैं। तीन दिन पहले लगभग सौ थे। उन्हें गिनने में मेरे सिर में दर्द हो रहा था। लेकिन अब यह आसान है। एक और गिर रहा है। अब केवल पांच बचे हैं।"

"पाँच क्या, प्रिय? अपनी सुडी को बताओ।"

"पत्ते। आइवी बेल पर। जब आखिरी पत्ता गिर जाएगा तो मुझे भी जाना होगा। मैं यह तीन दिन से जानता हूं। क्या डॉक्टर ने तुम्हें नहीं बताया?"

"ओह, मैंने इस तरह की बकवास के बारे में कभी नहीं सुना," स्यू ने बड़े ही तिरस्कार के साथ शिकायत की। "पुरानी आइवी की पत्तियों का आपके ठीक होने से क्या लेना-देना है? और तुम उस बेल से बहुत प्यार करती थी, शरारती लड़की। मूर्ख मत बनो। क्यों, डॉक्टर ने आज सुबह मुझसे कहा था कि तुम्हारे जल्द ही ठीक होने की संभावना वास्तविक है - आइए देखें कि उन्होंने वास्तव में क्या कहा - उन्होंने कहा कि संभावना दस से एक थी! क्यों, यह लगभग उतना ही अच्छा मौका है जितना कि न्यूयॉर्क में हमारे पास होता है जब हम सड़क पर कारों पर सवारी करते हैं या एक नई इमारत के पीछे चलते हैं। अब कुछ शोरबा लेने की कोशिश करें, और सुडी को वापस जाने दें अपनी ड्राइंग के लिए, ताकि वह इसके साथ संपादक को बेच सके, और अपने बीमार बच्चे के लिए पोर्ट वाइन और अपने लालची स्वार्थ के लिए पोर्क चॉप खरीद सके।"

जॉन्सी ने खिड़की से बाहर नजरें टिकाते हुए कहा, ''आपको और शराब लाने की जरूरत नहीं है।'' "वहाँ एक और जाता है। नहीं, मुझे कोई शोरबा नहीं चाहिए। वह केवल चार छोड़ता है। मैं अंधेरा होने से पहले आखिरी को गिरते हुए देखना चाहता हूँ। फिर मैं भी जाऊँगा।"

"जॉन्सी, प्रिय," सू ने उसके ऊपर झुकते हुए कहा, "क्या आप मुझसे वादा करेंगे कि मैं अपनी आंखें बंद रखूंगी और जब तक मैं काम खत्म नहीं कर लूं, तब तक खिड़की से बाहर नहीं देखूंगी? मुझे कल तक वे चित्र सौंप देने होंगे। मुझे रोशनी की जरूरत है, या मैं छाया नीचे खींच लूंगी।"

"क्या आप दूसरे कमरे में चित्र नहीं बना सकते?" जॉन्सी ने ठंडे स्वर में पूछा।

सू ने कहा, "मैं यहां आपके पास रहना पसंद करूंगी।" "इसके अलावा, मैं नहीं चाहता कि आप उन मूर्खतापूर्ण आइवी पत्तियों को देखते रहें।"

"जैसे ही आप समाप्त कर लें, मुझे बताएं," जॉन्सी ने अपनी आंखें बंद करके, सफेद और स्थिर गिरी हुई मूर्ति की तरह लेटी हुई कहा, "क्योंकि मैं आखिरी को गिरते हुए देखना चाहती हूं। मैं इंतजार करते-करते थक गई हूं। मैं सोचते-सोचते थक गई हूं। मैं हर चीज पर अपनी पकड़ ढीली करना चाहती हूं, और उन गरीब, थके हुए पत्तों में से एक की तरह, नीचे, नीचे की ओर जाना चाहती हूं।"

"सोने की कोशिश करो," सू ने कहा। "मुझे बेहरमन को उस बूढ़े साधु खनिक के लिए अपना मॉडल बनने के लिए बुलाना चाहिए। मैं एक मिनट के लिए भी नहीं जाऊँगा। जब तक मैं वापस न आऊँ, हिलने की कोशिश मत करना।"

बूढ़ा बेहरमन एक चित्रकार था जो उनके नीचे भूतल पर रहता था। उनकी उम्र साठ के पार थी और उनके सिर पर माइकल एंजेलो की मूसा जैसी दाढ़ी थी, जो एक शैतान के शरीर के साथ-साथ एक व्यंग्यकार के सिर पर लटक रही थी। बेहरमन कला में असफल थे। चालीस वर्षों तक वह अपनी मालकिन के बागे के किनारे को छूने के लिए पर्याप्त करीब आए बिना ही ब्रश चलाता रहा। वह हमेशा से एक उत्कृष्ट कृति का चित्र बनाने के बारे में सोच रहा था, लेकिन उसने अभी तक इसे शुरू नहीं किया था। कई वर्षों तक उन्होंने कभी-कभार वाणिज्य या विज्ञापन के क्षेत्र में कुछ भी चित्रित नहीं किया था। उन्होंने कॉलोनी के उन युवा कलाकारों के लिए एक मॉडल के रूप में काम करके थोड़ी कमाई की जो एक पेशेवर की कीमत नहीं चुका सकते थे। वह अत्यधिक मात्रा में जिन पीता था, और फिर भी अपनी आने वाली उत्कृष्ट कृति के बारे में बात करता था। बाकी लोगों के लिए वह एक भयंकर छोटा बूढ़ा आदमी था, जो किसी में भी नरमी का बहुत मज़ाक उड़ाता था, और जो ऊपर स्टूडियो में दो युवा कलाकारों की रक्षा के लिए खुद को विशिष्ट मास्टिफ़-इन-वेटिंग के रूप में मानता था।

सू ने बेहरमैन को नीचे अपनी मंद रोशनी वाली मांद में जुनिपर बेरी की तीव्र गंध महसूस करते हुए पाया। एक कोने में एक चित्रफलक पर एक खाली कैनवास था जो पच्चीस वर्षों से उत्कृष्ट कृति की पहली पंक्ति प्राप्त करने की प्रतीक्षा कर रहा था। उसने उसे जॉन्सी की कल्पना के बारे में बताया, और उसे डर था कि जब दुनिया पर उसकी थोड़ी सी पकड़ कमजोर हो जाएगी, तो वह वास्तव में एक पत्ते की तरह हल्की और नाजुक होकर तैर जाएगी।

बूढ़े बेहरमन ने, अपनी लाल आँखों से, ऐसी मूर्खतापूर्ण कल्पनाओं के लिए अपनी अवमानना ​​और उपहास चिल्लाया।

"वास!" वह रोया. "क्या दुनिया में लोग बेल से पत्ते गिरने के कारण मर जाना मूर्खता करते हैं? मैंने ऐसी बात नहीं सुनी है। नहीं, मैं आपके मूर्ख साधु-डंडरहेड के लिए एक मॉडल के रूप में काम नहीं करूंगा। क्या आप उसके दिमाग में मूर्खतापूर्ण गंदगी को आने की अनुमति देते हैं? अच्छा, बेचारी लीटल मिस योहनसी।"

"वह बहुत बीमार और कमज़ोर है," सू ने कहा, "और बुखार ने उसके मन को विकृत और अजीब कल्पनाओं से भर दिया है। बहुत अच्छा, मिस्टर बेहरमन, यदि आप मेरे लिए पोज़ देने की परवाह नहीं करते हैं, तो आपको इसकी ज़रूरत नहीं है। लेकिन मुझे लगता है कि आप एक भयानक बूढ़े - पुराने फ़्लिबर्टिगिबेट हैं।

"तुम बिल्कुल एक औरत की तरह हो!" बेहरमन चिल्लाया। "किसने कहा कि मैं बोस नहीं बनाऊंगी? आगे बढ़ो। मैं तुम्हारे पास आती हूं। आधे घंटे तक मैंने यह कहने की कोशिश की है कि मैं बोस करने के लिए तैयार हूं। समझे! यह कोई ऐसी जगह नहीं है जिसमें मिस योहंसी जैसी महान महिला बीमार पड़े। किसी दिन मैं एक उत्कृष्ट कृति बनाऊंगी, और हम सब चले जाएंगे। समझे! हां।"

जब वे ऊपर गए तो जॉन्सी सो रही थी। सू ने शेड को खिड़की की चौखट तक खींच लिया, और बेहरमन को दूसरे कमरे में जाने का इशारा किया। वहाँ उन्होंने डरकर खिड़की से बाहर आइवी बेल की ओर झाँका। फिर वे बिना कुछ बोले एक पल के लिए एक-दूसरे की ओर देखते रहे। लगातार, ठंडी बारिश हो रही थी, बर्फ के साथ मिश्रित। बेहरमन, अपनी पुरानी नीली शर्ट में, एक चट्टान के लिए उलटी केतली पर साधु खनिक के रूप में अपनी सीट ले ली।

अगली सुबह जब सू एक घंटे की नींद से जागी तो उसने जॉन्सी को सुस्त, चौड़ी-खुली आँखों से हरे रंग की छाया को घूरते हुए पाया।

"इसे ऊपर खींचो; मैं देखना चाहती हूँ," उसने फुसफुसाते हुए आदेश दिया।

सू ने थककर उसकी बात मानी।

लेकिन, लो! तेज़ बारिश और तेज़ हवा के झोंकों के बाद जो पूरी रात चली, ईंट की दीवार के सामने अभी भी एक आइवी पत्ता खड़ा था। यह बेल पर आखिरी था। इसके तने के पास अभी भी गहरा हरा रंग है, इसके दाँतेदार किनारे विघटन और क्षय के पीले रंग से रंगे हुए हैं, यह जमीन से लगभग बीस फीट ऊपर शाखा से बहादुरी से लटका हुआ है।

जॉन्सी ने कहा, "यह आखिरी है।" "मैंने सोचा था कि यह निश्चित रूप से रात के दौरान गिरेगा। मैंने हवा की आवाज सुनी। यह आज गिरेगा, और मैं उसी समय मर जाऊंगा।"

"प्रिय, प्रिय!" सू ने अपना घिसा-पिटा चेहरा तकिये पर झुकाते हुए कहा, "मेरे बारे में सोचो, अगर तुम अपने बारे में नहीं सोचोगे। मैं क्या करूंगी?"

लेकिन जॉन्सी ने कोई उत्तर नहीं दिया। पूरी दुनिया में सबसे अकेली चीज़ एक आत्मा है जब वह अपनी रहस्यमय, दूर की यात्रा पर जाने की तैयारी कर रही होती है। ऐसा लग रहा था कि उसकी कल्पना ने उस पर और अधिक मजबूती से कब्ज़ा कर लिया है क्योंकि एक-एक करके वे बंधन खुलते गए जो उसे दोस्ती और ज़मीन से जोड़ते थे।

दिन ढल गया, और गोधूलि के समय भी वे आइवी के अकेले पत्ते को दीवार के पास उसके तने से चिपका हुआ देख सकते थे। और फिर, रात होने के साथ उत्तरी हवा फिर से धीमी हो गई, जबकि बारिश अभी भी खिड़कियों से टकरा रही थी और निचले डच छतों से नीचे गिर रही थी।

जब पर्याप्त रोशनी हो गई तो निर्दयी जॉनसी ने आदेश दिया कि छाया ऊपर उठा दी जाए।

आइवी पत्ता अभी भी वहाँ था।

जॉन्सी बहुत देर तक लेटी हुई उसे देखती रही। और फिर उसने सू को बुलाया, जो गैस स्टोव पर चिकन शोरबा हिला रही थी।

जॉन्सी ने कहा, "मैं एक बुरी लड़की रही हूं, सूडी।" "किसी चीज़ ने उस आखिरी पत्ते को वहीं रहने दिया, जिससे मुझे पता चला कि मैं कितना दुष्ट था। मरना पाप है। अब आप मेरे लिए थोड़ा सा शोरबा और उसमें थोड़ा सा दूध मिला कर ला सकते हैं, और - नहीं; पहले मेरे लिए एक हैंड-मिरर लाएँ, और फिर मेरे चारों ओर कुछ तकिए बाँध दें, और मैं बैठ कर आपको खाना बनाते हुए देखूँगा।"

और एक घंटे बाद उसने कहा:

"सुडी, किसी दिन मुझे नेपल्स की खाड़ी को चित्रित करने की आशा है।"

दोपहर को डॉक्टर आया, और उसके जाते ही सू के पास दालान में जाने का बहाना था।

"संभावना भी है," डॉक्टर ने सू का पतला, हिलता हुआ हाथ अपने हाथ में लेते हुए कहा। "अच्छी देखभाल से आप जीतेंगे।" और अब मुझे एक और मामला देखना होगा जो मेरे नीचे है। मेरा मानना ​​है कि बेहरमन, उसका नाम किसी तरह का कलाकार है। निमोनिया भी. वह एक बूढ़ा, कमज़ोर आदमी है, और हमला तीव्र है। उसके लिए कोई आशा नहीं है; लेकिन वह अधिक आरामदायक होने के लिए आज अस्पताल जाता है।"

अगले दिन डॉक्टर ने सू से कहा: "वह खतरे से बाहर है। तुम जीत गई। अब पोषण और देखभाल - बस इतना ही।"

और उस दोपहर सू उस बिस्तर पर आई जहां जॉन्सी लेटी थी, एक बहुत ही नीला और बहुत ही बेकार ऊनी कंधे का दुपट्टा बुनते हुए, और एक हाथ उसके चारों ओर डाल दिया, तकिए और सब कुछ।

"मुझे तुमसे कुछ कहना है, सफेद चूहे," उसने कहा। "मिस्टर बेहरमैन की आज अस्पताल में निमोनिया से मृत्यु हो गई। वह केवल दो दिन से बीमार थे। पहले दिन की सुबह चौकीदार ने उन्हें नीचे अपने कमरे में दर्द से असहाय पाया। उनके जूते और कपड़े गीले थे और बर्फीली ठंड थी। वे कल्पना नहीं कर सकते थे कि वह इतनी भयानक रात में कहाँ थे। और फिर उन्हें एक लालटेन मिली, जो अभी भी जल रही थी, और एक सीढ़ी जो अपनी जगह से खींची गई थी, और कुछ बिखरे हुए ब्रश, और एक पैलेट जिसमें हरे और पीले रंग मिश्रित थे। यह, और - खिड़की से बाहर देखो, प्रिय, दीवार पर आखिरी आइवी पत्ती पर। क्या तुम्हें आश्चर्य नहीं हुआ कि हवा चलने पर यह कभी क्यों नहीं लहराया या हिल गया? आह, प्रिय, यह बेहरमन की उत्कृष्ट कृति है - उसने इसे उस रात चित्रित किया था जब आखिरी पत्ती गिरी थी।"

Short Answer Type Questions

1. Who are the main characters in the story 'The Last Leaf'? Briefly describe their relationship.

The main characters in the story are Johnsy, Sue, and Behrman. Johnsy and Sue are two young artists who share an apartment in Greenwich Village, New York. They are close friends and care deeply for each other. When Johnsy falls ill with pneumonia, Sue looks after her and tries to keep her hopeful. Behrman is an old painter who lives in the same building. He is like a father figure to them and ultimately makes a great sacrifice for Johnsy.

2. What role does the ivy vine play in the story 'The Last Leaf'?

The ivy vine plays a crucial role in the story as a symbol of hope and despair. Johnsy, who is suffering from pneumonia, believes that her life is connected to the vine. She thinks that when the last leaf falls, she will also die. Her belief in the vine makes her lose hope and weakens her will to live. However, when she sees the "last leaf" still there after a stormy night, she regains the will to fight her illness, not knowing that the leaf is actually a painting.

3. Why does Johnsy believe she will die when the last leaf falls?

Johnsy becomes depressed due to her illness and loses hope of recovery. She starts believing that her life is connected to the ivy vine outside her window. As she watches the leaves fall one by one, she convinces herself that when the last leaf falls, she too will die. This negative thinking makes her condition worse, as she refuses to eat or take proper care of herself.

4. What does the doctor say about Johnsy’s illness?

The doctor tells Sue that Johnsy’s chances of survival are very low because she has lost the will to live. He explains that medicine alone cannot cure her; she must have hope and a strong desire to recover. He warns that if Johnsy does not change her mindset, no treatment will be effective. This highlights the importance of mental strength in overcoming illness.

5. How does Sue try to help Johnsy recover?

Sue takes care of Johnsy with great love and patience. She tries to lift Johnsy’s spirits by talking about their future plans and encouraging her to think positively. She calls the doctor for treatment and ensures that Johnsy stays warm and comfortable. When Johnsy keeps counting the ivy leaves and loses hope, Sue becomes worried and informs Behrman about her condition. Her actions show the power of friendship and support.

6. What happens to Behrman at the end of the story?

At the end of the story, Behrman makes the ultimate sacrifice to save Johnsy. On a cold and stormy night, he paints a realistic leaf on the wall to give Johnsy hope. Because of this, Johnsy believes the last leaf has not fallen and starts recovering. However, Behrman catches pneumonia after being exposed to the cold weather. Two days later, he dies from the illness, but his masterpiece saves Johnsy’s life.

7. How does the "last leaf" become Behrman’s masterpiece?

Behrman always wanted to paint a masterpiece but never got the chance. The leaf he painted on the wall became his greatest work of art because it gave Johnsy hope and saved her life. Even though it was just a painting, it looked so real that Johnsy believed the leaf had survived the storm. This selfless act of kindness and sacrifice made it Behrman’s true masterpiece.

8. How does Johnsy react when she sees the last leaf still on the vine?

Johnsy is surprised to see that the last leaf is still there despite the storm. She realizes that if the leaf can survive the harsh weather, she too can fight her illness. This gives her new hope, and she slowly starts regaining her strength. She understands that she was being foolish to give up so easily and decides to live.

9. Explain the significance of the title "The Last Leaf."

The title The Last Leaf is very meaningful because it represents hope, survival, and sacrifice. Johnsy believes that her life depends on the last leaf of the ivy vine. When she sees it still there after the storm, she regains the will to live. The last leaf was not real but a painting, yet it gave Johnsy strength. This shows that sometimes, hope can come from unexpected places.

10. What message does the story convey about hope and perseverance?

The story teaches that hope is powerful and can help people overcome difficult times. Johnsy was ready to give up, but the last leaf gave her the courage to fight her illness. Behrman’s sacrifice shows that small acts of kindness can change someone’s life. The story also tells us that perseverance is important, and we should never lose faith, even in the hardest moments.

11. What is the irony in the story?

The biggest irony in the story is that Johnsy believes the last leaf on the ivy vine is real, but it is actually a painting made by Behrman. She thinks the leaf gives her hope and strength, but it is Behrman’s selfless act that saves her life. The other irony is that while Johnsy survives, Behrman, who was strong and healthy, dies after painting the leaf. This unexpected twist makes the story emotional and powerful.

12. How does the story highlight the theme of sacrifice?

The story shows that true love and kindness involve making sacrifices for others. Behrman, who had never painted a real masterpiece in his life, risks everything to give Johnsy hope. He goes out in the cold to paint a leaf, knowing that he might get sick. His sacrifice ultimately saves Johnsy but costs him his own life. This teaches us that sometimes, the greatest acts of heroism are the quiet, selfless ones.

13. What lesson can we learn from 'The Last Leaf'?

The story teaches us that hope and positive thinking can change our lives. It also reminds us about the power of true friendship and sacrifice. Even in difficult times, we should not give up but continue to fight. Behrman’s actions show that small acts of kindness can have a big impact on others. Overall, the story inspires us to be strong, selfless, and hopeful in life.

Long Answer type Questions

1. How does art serve as a source of hope in the story 'The Last Leaf'?

Art plays a crucial role in The Last Leaf as a source of hope, inspiration, and emotional healing. In the story, Johnsy, a young artist, loses her will to live after falling seriously ill with pneumonia. She starts associating her fate with the ivy leaves on the vine outside her window, believing that she will die when the last leaf falls. Her negative mindset makes her condition worse, and even medical treatment cannot cure her unless she regains hope.

Behrman, an old painter, understands the importance of hope in recovery. On a stormy night, he paints a realistic ivy leaf on the wall after all the real leaves have fallen. This painted leaf gives Johnsy the illusion that at least one leaf has survived the storm. When she sees the leaf still clinging to the vine the next morning, she regains her hope and starts believing that she, too, can survive.

This shows how art, even in its simplest form, can serve as a powerful medium to inspire and uplift people. The painted leaf, although not real, becomes a symbol of resilience and survival. Behrman’s artwork is not just a painting; it is a life-saving masterpiece that restores Johnsy’s strength. The story highlights how art has the ability to influence emotions, provide comfort, and change perspectives.

Through The Last Leaf, O. Henry beautifully conveys that art is not merely for decoration—it holds deep emotional value. It can instill courage, offer solace, and even save lives. Behrman’s painting, in this context, is more than just a picture; it is a silent yet powerful expression of love, sacrifice, and hope.

2. Rewrite the ending of the story 'The Last Leaf,' where Behrman survives. How would this change the overall message?

If Behrman had survived in the story, the entire message and emotional impact would have been different. Instead of being a tragic tale of sacrifice, the story would have been one of triumph and recognition.

In this alternate ending, Behrman would still paint the last leaf to give Johnsy hope. However, instead of falling severely ill and dying, he would recover from his sickness after a few days. When Johnsy learns the truth about the painted leaf and Behrman’s efforts to save her, she would express deep gratitude. His masterpiece would gain recognition, not just among Sue and Johnsy, but perhaps in the art community as well. Behrman, who had always dreamed of creating a great painting, would finally see his work appreciated—not just as art, but as something that changed a life.

This version of the story would shift the focus from tragic sacrifice to the idea that acts of kindness are often rewarded. It would emphasize that hope and selflessness do not always come at a fatal cost. While the original ending highlights the unpredictability of fate and the cruel irony of life, this rewritten version would reinforce the idea that goodness and art can bring happiness without personal loss.

However, this change would also take away some of the emotional depth and irony of the original story. O. Henry’s version shows that sometimes, true masterpieces come from selfless acts rather than fame or recognition. Behrman’s death gives a bittersweet meaning to his work, making it more profound. Without this sacrifice, the impact of his masterpiece would not be as powerful.

3. Discuss the irony of Behrman creating his masterpiece at the cost of his own life.

Irony plays a significant role in The Last Leaf, especially in the way Behrman finally creates his long-awaited masterpiece. Throughout his life, Behrman considers himself an artist but never creates a painting he deems worthy of being called a masterpiece. He spends years waiting for the perfect inspiration but remains an unrecognized and struggling artist.

The great irony in the story is that Behrman’s true masterpiece is not a grand painting displayed in a gallery but a simple, yet powerful, image of a leaf that he paints on a wall to save Johnsy’s life. He achieves artistic greatness, but at the cost of his own life. While Johnsy gains a second chance at life because of the leaf, Behrman loses his due to the cold and exposure while painting in the storm.

Another layer of irony is that Johnsy believes the last leaf is real, which helps her recover. However, the reality is that the leaf is an illusion—an artificial creation meant to deceive her for her own good. The deception, though, is a positive one because it restores her will to live. Meanwhile, Behrman, who was physically strong before, succumbs to the illness that Johnsy was originally suffering from.

This irony enhances the depth of the story, making Behrman’s sacrifice more moving. It also reflects the unpredictability of life—how the most unexpected actions can leave the greatest impact. Behrman’s sacrifice transforms him from a struggling artist to a hero, showing that sometimes, true masterpieces are not made for fame but for love and kindness.

4. How does the story explore the theme of friendship and selflessness?

The Last Leaf beautifully illustrates the themes of friendship and selflessness through the relationships between Johnsy, Sue, and Behrman. Throughout the story, both Sue and Behrman demonstrate immense love and care for Johnsy, doing everything possible to help her recover.

Sue, as Johnsy’s best friend and roommate, plays a central role in supporting her. She takes care of Johnsy, consults the doctor, and constantly tries to uplift her spirits despite her own fears and worries. She does not let Johnsy’s negative thoughts discourage her. Instead, she works tirelessly to keep her hopeful, even when Johnsy is convinced she will die.

Behrman, on the other hand, shows an even greater act of selflessness. Though he is an old, poor artist, he risks his own life to paint a leaf that will give Johnsy hope. He does this without hesitation, knowing that his actions might make a difference. He does not seek praise or recognition; he simply wants to save Johnsy. His sacrifice proves that true selflessness means putting others before oneself, even at great personal cost.

Through these characters, O. Henry conveys that true friendship is about unwavering support, and selflessness is about giving without expecting anything in return. The story reminds us that acts of kindness, no matter how small, can change lives in unimaginable ways.

5. What is the role of hope and the power of the mind in the story?

Hope is one of the most significant themes in The Last Leaf, demonstrating how the power of the mind can influence one’s physical well-being. Johnsy’s condition worsens not just because of pneumonia, but because she has given up hope. She convinces herself that her fate is tied to the falling leaves of the ivy vine, and as a result, she mentally surrenders to the illness. Her hopelessness makes it difficult for her to recover, despite medical treatment.

On the other hand, when she sees that the last leaf has not fallen, her mindset changes. She begins to believe in her survival, and this shift in thought gives her the strength to recover. This highlights the psychological impact of hope—when a person believes in the possibility of survival, their chances of healing improve.

Behrman’s actions reinforce this theme. His painting of the leaf serves as a symbolic gesture, showing that sometimes, external influences (like art, love, and support) can restore lost hope. His sacrifice proves that hope is not just something we find within ourselves, but something that can be given to others through kindness and selflessness.

The story ultimately teaches us that the power of the mind is strong—when we lose hope, we lose everything, but when we believe in life, we find the strength to fight against all odds.