SUE and Johnsy, two young artists, shared a small flat. Johnsy had pneumonia.She would lie in her bed without moving. Sue, her friend, became very worried. She sent for thedoctor. Although he came every day there was no change in Johnsy’s condition.
Is anything worrying Johnsy?
No Doctor.But why do you ask?
Johnsy, it seems, has made up her mind that she is not going to get well. If she doesn't want to live, medicines will not help her.
Six,whispered Johnsy.They are falling faster now.Three days ago there were almost a hundred leaves. There are only five left now.When the last leaf fall.I will die
What is it dear?
Behrman lived on the ground floor. He was a sixty-year-old painter. His lifelong dream was to paint a masterpiece but that had remained a dream. Sue poured out her worries to Behrman. She told him how Johnsy was convinced that she would die when the last leaf fell.
Is she stupid? How can she be so foolish?
She is running a high temperature. She refuses to eat or drink and that worries me a lot
I heard the wind last night. I thought it would have fallen. It will surely fall today
It was raining heavily and an icy-cold wind was blowing. It seemed as though the leaf would fall any minute now. Behrman did not say a word. He went back to his room. Johnsy woke up next morning. In a feeble voice she asked Sue to draw the curtains. Sue was nervous. She drew back the curtains very reluctantly.
In the evening, there was another storm but the leaf did not fall. Johnsy lay for a long time looking at the leaf. Then she called out to Sue.
Oh, Look, there is still one leaf on the creeper.it looks quite green and healthy.In spite of the storm,it didn't fall.
The next morning Sue came and sat on Johnsy’s bed. Taking Johnsy’s hand in her she said, “I have something to tell you. Mr Behrman died of pneumonia this morning. He was ill for only two days. The first day the janitor found him on his bed. His clothes and shoes were wet and he was shivering. He had been out in that stormy night.” they found a ladder and a lantern still lighted lying near his bed. There were also some brushes and green and yellow paints on the floor near the ladder.
Johnsy dear,“look out of the window. Look at that ivy leaf. Haven’t you wondered why it doesn’t flutter when the wind blows? That’s Behrman’s masterpiece. He painted it the night the last leaf fell.