The last leaf (by О'Неnrу. And that afternoon Sue came to the bed where Johnsy lay)

scarcely moving, looking through the small window at the blank side of the next brick house.

One morning the busy doctor invited Sue into the hallway.

"She has one chance in - let us say, ten," he said. "And that chance is for her to want to live. 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 about twice - а man, for instance?"

"А man?" said Sue. "Is а 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 can accomplish. But if you get her to ask one question about the new winter styles in clothes I will promise you а one-in-five chance for her, instead of one in ten."

After the doctor had gone Sue went into Johnsy's room with her drawing board, whistling ragtime.

Johnsy lay with her face toward the window. She stopped whistling, thinking she was asleep.

She arranged her board and began а pen-and-ink drawing to illustrate а magazine story. As Sue was sketching she heard а 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 а little later "eleven"; and then "ten," and "nine"; and then "eight" and "seven," almost together.

Sue looked out of the window. What was there to count? There was only а bare yard to be seen, and the blank side of the brick house twenty feet away. An old, old ivy vine, 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 а whisper. "They're falling faster now. Three days ago there were almost а 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?" "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. "What have old ivy leaves to do with your getting well? And you used to love that vine so, you naughty girl. 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!

"You needn't get any more medicine for me," 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."

"Tell me as soon as you have finished," said Johnsy, closing her eyes, and lying white and still as а 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.”

Old Behrman was а painter who lived on the ground floor beneath them. He was past sixty and he had been always about to paint а masterpiece, but had never yet begun it. He earned а little by serving as а model to those young artists in the city who could not pay the price of а professional. Sue found Behrman and told him Johnsy's fancy. Old Behrman got angry at these foolish ideas but nevertheless he went to pose Sue.

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

"Pull it up; I want to see," she ordered, in а whisper. Sue obeyed. But, oh! after the beating rain and fierce gusts of wind that had endured through the whole night, there yet stood out against the brick wall one ivy leaf. It was the last on the vine. It hung bravely from а 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 today, 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 day passed away, and even through the twilight they could see the lone ivy leaf against the wall. And the next day the ivy leaf was still there.

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

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