Narrative Text : The Last Leaf
The Last Leaf
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Many artists lived in Greenwich Village in New York City. Sue and Johnsy, two artists also lived there in a studio apartment. Their rooms were at the top of an old building in Greenwich Village.
Banyak artis yang tinggal di Desa Greenwich di kota New York. Diantaranya Sue dan Johnsy, mereka tinggal di apartemen studio. Kamar mereka di lantai atas sebuah bangunan tua di Desa Greenwich.
Banyak artis yang tinggal di Desa Greenwich di kota New York. Diantaranya Sue dan Johnsy, mereka tinggal di apartemen studio. Kamar mereka di lantai atas sebuah bangunan tua di Desa Greenwich.
In November, it was very cold and with it a cold unseen stranger, whom the doctors called Pneumonia,stalked the city, touching one here and there with hisicy fingers. The icy fingers of Pneumonia also touchedJohnsy. She was very ill, lying in her bed and not moving at all. A doctor visited her every day but Johnsy was not getting better. One morning, the doctor spoke to Sueoutside Johnsy's room,
“I can' t help her,” the doctor said. “She is very sad and has no desire to live.Someone must make her happy again. What is she interested in?”
“She is an artist,” Sue replied. “She wants to paint a picture of bay of Naples.”
“She is an artist,” Sue replied. “She wants to paint a picture of bay of Naples.”
“Painting!” said the doctor. “That won't help her!”
“
“
Sue was distressed by this news and didn't know what to do to help Johnsy.She went into the workroom and cried and then she swaggered into Johnsy's room with her drawing board, whistling ragtime. Johnsy lay silently in her bed with her face towards the window. Sue stopped whistling, thinking Johnsy was asleep.
Sue arranged her board and began drawing to illustrate a magazine story.As Sue was sketching a figure of a 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 backwards.
"Twelve," she said, and little later "eleven"; and then "ten," and "nine"; and then"eight" and "seven", almost together.
Sue looked out of the window wondering what was there to count? There was only a bare, dreary yard to be seen, and the blank side of the brick house 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. My head ached when I was counting them but now it's easy. There goes another one. There are only five left now."
"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. My head ached when I was counting them but now it's easy. There goes another one. There are only five left now."
Johnsy was sleeping when they went upstairs. Sue pulled the shade down to the windowsill, 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.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."It is the last one," said Johnsy. 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, ifyou won't think of yourself. What would I do?" But Johnsy did not answer.
The leaf stayed on the vine all day. That night, there was more wind and rain.When it was light enough Johnsy commanded that the shade be raised. The ivy leaf was still there.
"I've been a foolish girl, Sue," said Johnsy. “I wanted to die but the last leaf stayed on the vine to teach me a lesson. Please bring me some soup now.” “You know Sue, some day I hope to paint the Bay of Naples."
The doctor visited the girls in the afternoon. “Take good care of your friend,” he said. “She is going to get well. Now I have to go downstairs. I have to visit Mr. Behrman. He has pneumonia too. I must send him to the hospital.”
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 woolen shoulder scarf. "I have something to tell you, dear," she said. "Mr. Behrman died of pneumonia today 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 colors 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.”
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