欧亨利马克吐温

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1、杰克伦敦马克吐温欧亨利 三美国短篇小说三剑客美国欧.亨利 欧亨利 （O. Henry, 1862-1910） The Cop And The AnthemO HenryOn his bench in Madison Square Soapy moved uneasily, and when Soapy moves uneasily on his bench in the park, you may know that winter is near.A dead leaf fell in Soapys lap. That was Jack Frosts card. Jack is kind to

2、 the regular residents of Madison Square, and gives them warning of his annual call.Soapy realized the fact that the time had come for him to provide against the coming winter. And therefore he moved uneasily on his bench.The winter ambitions of Soapy were not of the highest. In them there were no d

3、reams of Mediterranean voyages, of blue Southern skies or the Vesuvian Bay. Three months on the Island was what his soul desired. Three months of assured board and bed and good company, safe from north winds and policemen, seemed to Soapy the most desirable thing.For years the hospitable Blackwell p

4、rison had been his winter refuge. Just as the more fortunate New Yorkers had bought their tickets to Palm Beach and the Riviera each winter, so Soapy had made his arrangements for his annual journey to the island. And now the time had come. On the night before three Sunday newspapers, put under his

5、coat, about his feet and over his lap, had not helped him against the cold as he slept on his bench near the fountain in the old square. There were many institutions of charity in New York where he might receive lodging and food, but to Soapys proud spirit the gifts of charity were undesirable. You

6、must pay in humiliation of spirit for everything received at the hands of philanthropy. So it was better to be a guest of the law.Soapy, having decided to go to the Island, at once set about accomplishing his desire. There were many easy ways of doing this. The pleasantest was to dine at some good r

7、estaurant; and then, after declaring bankruptcy, be handed over to a policeman. A magistrate would do the rest.Soapy left his bench and went out of the square and up Broadway. He stopped at the door of a glittering cafe. He was shaven and his coat was decent. If he could reach a table in the restaur

8、ant, the portion of him that would show above the table would raise no doubt in the waiters mind. A roasted duck, thought Soapy, with a bottle of wine, and then some cheese, a cup of coffee and a cigar would be enough. Such a dinner would make him happy, for the journey to his winter refuge.But as S

9、oapy entered the restaurant door, the head waiters eye fell upon his shabby trousers and old shoes. Strong hands turned him about and pushed him in silence and haste out into the street.Soapy turned off Broadway. Some other way of entering the desirable refuge must be found.At a corner of Sixth Aven

10、ue Soapy took a stone and sent it through the glass of a glittering shop window. People came running around the corner, a policeman at the head of them. Soapy stood still, with his hands in his pockets, and smiled at the sight of the policeman.Where is the man that has done that? asked the policeman

11、.Dont you think that I have had something to do with it? said Soapy, not without sarcasm, but friendly.The policeman paid no attention to Soapy. Men who break windows do not remain to speak with policemen. They run away. He saw a man running to catch a car and rushed after him with his stick in his

12、hand. Soapy, with disgust in his heart, walked along, twice unsuccessful.On the opposite side of the street was a little restaurant for people with large appetites and modest purses. Soapy entered this place without difficulty. He sat at a table and ate beefsteak and pie. And then he told the waiter

13、 that he had no money.Now go and call a cop, said Soapy. And dont keep a gentleman waiting.No cop for you, said the waiter. Hey!In a moment Soapy found himself lying upon his left ear on the pavement. He arose with difficulty, and beat the dust from his clothes. Arrest seemed a rosy dream. The Islan

14、d seemed very far away. A policeman who stood before a drug store two doors away laughed and walked down the street. Soapy seemed to liberty.After another unsuccessful attempt to be arrested for persecution a young woman, Soapy went further toward the district of theatres.When he came upon a policem

15、an standing in front of a glittering theatre, he caught at the straw of disorderly conduct.On the sidewalk Soapy began to sing drunken songs at the top of his voice. He danced, howled, and otherwise disturbed the peace.The policeman turned his back to Soapy, and said to a citizen:It is one of the Ya

16、le lads celebrating their football victory over the Hartford College. Noisy, but no harm. We have instructions not to arrest them.Sadly, Soapy stopped his useless singing and dancing. A sudden fear seized him. Was he immune to arrest? Would never a policeman lay hands on him? The Island seemed an un

17、attainable Arcadia. He buttoned his thin coat against the north wind.In a cigar store he saw a well-dressed man lighting a cigar. He had set his silk umbrella by the door, Soapy entered the store, took the umbrella, and went out with it slowly. The man with the cigar followed hastily.My umbrella, he

18、 said.Oh, is it? said Soapy. Well, why dont you call a policeman? I took it. Your umbrella! Why dont you call a cop? There stands one on the corner.The umbrella owner slowed his steps. Soapy did likewise. The policeman looked at them curiously.Of course, said the umbrella man, that is - well, you kn

19、ow how these mistakes occur - I - if its your umbrella I hope youll excuse me - I picked it up this morning in a restaurant - if it is yours, why - I hope youll -Of course its mine, said Soapy.The ex-umbrella man retreated. The policeman hurried to help a well-dressed woman across the street.Soapy w

20、alked eastward. He threw the umbrella angrily into a pit. He was angry with the men who wear helmets and carry clubs. Because he wanted to be arrested, they seemed to regard him as a king who could do no wrong.At last Soapy reached one of the avenues to the east where it was not so noisy. He went to

21、wards Madison Square, for the home instinct remains even when the home is a park bench.But on a quiet corner Soapy stopped before an old church. Through one window a soft light glowed, where, no doubt, the organist played a Sunday anthem. For there came to Soapys ears sweet music that caught and hel

22、d him at the iron fence.The moon was shining; cars and pedestrians were few; birds twittered sleepily under the roof. And the anthem that the organist played cemented Soapy to the iron fence, for he had known it well in the days when his life contained such things as mothers and roses and ambitions

23、and friends.The influence of the music and the old church produced a sudden and wonderful change in Soapys soul. He saw with horror the pit into which he had fallen. He thought of his degraded days, dead hopes and wrecked faculties.And also in a moment a strong impulse moved him to battle with his d

24、esperate fate. He would pull himself out of this pit; he would make a man of himself again. There was time; he was young yet. Those sweet organ notes had set up a revolution in him. Tomorrow he would be somebody in the world. He would -Soapy felt a hand on his arm. He looked quickly around into the

25、broad face of a policeman.What are you doing here? asked the policeman.Nothing, said Soapy.Then come along, said the policeman.Three months on the Island, said the Magistrate in the Police Court the next morning.察与赞美诗过冬计划苏比躺在麦迪生广场他那条长凳上，辗转反侧。每当雁群在夜空引吭高鸣，每当没有海豹皮大衣的女人跟丈夫亲热起来，每当苏比躺在街心公园长凳上辗转反侧，这时候，你就知道

26、冬天迫在眉睫了。一张枯叶飘落在苏比的膝头。这是杰克?弗洛斯特的名片。杰克对麦迪生广场的老住户很客气，每年光临之前，总要先打个招呼。他在十字街头把名片递给“露天公寓”的门公佬“北风”，好让房客们有所准备。苏比明白，为了抵御寒冬，由他亲自出马组织一个单人财务委员会的时候到了。为此，他在长凳上辗转反侧，不能入寐。苏比的冬居计划并不过奢。他没打算去地中海游弋，也不想去晒南方令人昏昏欲睡的太阳，更没考虑到维苏威湾去漂流。他衷心企求的仅仅是去岛上度过三个月。整整三个月不愁食宿，伙伴们意气相投，再没有“北风”老儿和警察老爷来纠缠不清，在苏比看来，人生的乐趣也莫过于此了。多年来，好客的布莱克威尔岛监狱一直是他

27、的冬季寓所。正如福气比他好的纽约人每年冬天要买票去棕榈滩和里维埃拉一样，苏比也不免要为一年一度的“冬狩”作些最必要的安排。现在，时候到了。昨天晚上，他躺在古老的广场喷泉和近的长凳上，把三份星期天的厚报纸塞在上衣里，盖在脚踝和膝头上，都没有能挡住寒气。这就使苏比的脑海里迅速而鲜明地浮现出岛子的影子。他瞧不起慈善事业名下对地方上穷人所作的布施。在苏比眼里，法律比救济仁慈得多。他可去的地方多的是，有市政府办的，有救济机关办的，在那些地方他都能混吃混住。当然，生活不能算是奢侈。可是对苏比这样一个灵魂高傲的人来说，施舍的办法是行不通的。从慈善机构手里每得到一点点好处，钱固然不必花，却得付出精神上的屈辱来

28、回报。真是凡事有利必有弊，要睡慈善单位的床铺，先得让人押去洗上一个澡；要吃他一块面包，还得先一五一十交代清个人的历史。因此，还是当法律的客人来得强。法律虽然铁面无私，照章办事，至少没那么不知趣，会去干涉一位大爷的私事。既然已经打定主意去岛上，苏比立刻准备实现自己的计划。省事的办法倒也不少。最舒服的莫过于在哪家豪华的餐馆里美美地吃上一顿，然后声明自己不名一钱，这就可以悄悄地、安安静静地交到警察手里。其余的事，自有一位识相的推事来料理。苏比离开长凳，踱出广场，穿过百老汇路和五马路汇合处那处平坦的柏油路面。他拐到百老汇路，在一家灯火辉煌的餐馆门前停了下来，每天晚上，这里汇集着葡萄、蚕丝与原生质的最佳

29、制品。苏比对自己西服背心最低一颗纽扣以上的部分很有信心。他刮过脸，他的上装还算过得去，他那条干干净净的活结领带是感恩节那天一位教会里的女士送给他的。只要他能走到餐桌边不引人生疑，那就是胜券在握了。他露出桌面的上半身还不至于让侍者起怀疑。一只烤野鸭，苏比寻思，那就差不离再来一瓶夏白立酒然后是一份戛曼包干酪，一小杯浓咖啡，再来一支雪茄烟。一块钱一支的那种也就凑合了。总数既不会大得让饭店柜上发狠报复，这顿牙祭又能让他去冬宫的旅途上无牵无挂，心满意足。可是苏比刚迈进饭店的门，侍者领班的眼光就落到他的旧裤子和破皮鞋上。粗壮利落的手把他推了个转身，悄悄而迅速地把他打发到人行道上，那只险遭暗算的野鸭的不体面

30、命运也从而得以扭转。苏比离开了百老汇路。看来靠打牙祭去那个日思夜想的岛是不成的了。要进地狱，还是想想别的办法。在六马路拐角上有一家铺子，灯光通明，陈设别致，大玻璃橱窗很惹眼。苏比捡起块鹅卵石往大玻璃上砸去。人们从拐角上跑来，领头的是个巡警。苏比站定了不动，两手插在口袋里，对着铜纽扣直笑。“肇事的家伙在哪儿？”警察气急败坏地问。“你难道看不出我也许跟这事有点牵连吗？”苏比说，口气虽然带点嘲讽，却很友善，仿佛好运在等着他。在警察的脑子里苏比连个旁证都算不上。砸橱窗的人没有谁会留下来和法律的差役打交道。他们总是一溜烟似地跑。警察看见半条街外有个人跑着去赶搭车子。他抽出警棍，去追那个倒霉的人。苏比心里

31、窝火极了，他拖着步子走了开去。两次了，都砸了锅。街对面有家不怎么起眼的饭馆。它投合胃口大钱包小的吃客。它那儿的盘盏和气氛都粗里粗气，它那儿的菜汤和餐巾都稀得透光。苏比挪动他那双暴露身份的皮鞋和泄露真相的裤子跨时饭馆时倒没遭到白眼。他在桌子旁坐下来，消受了一块牛排、一份煎饼、一份油炸糖圈，以及一份馅儿饼。吃完后他向侍者坦白：他无缘结识钱大爷，钱大爷也与他素昧平生。“手脚麻利些，去请个警察来，”苏比说，“别让大爷久等。”“用不着惊动警察老爷，”侍者说，嗓音油腻得像奶油蛋糕，眼睛红得像鸡尾酒里浸泡的樱桃，“喂，阿康！”两个侍者干净利落地把苏比往外一叉，正好让他左耳贴地摔在铁硬的人行道上。他一节一节地

32、撑了起来，像木匠在打开一把折尺，然后又掸去衣服上的尘土。被捕仿佛只是一个绊色的梦。那个岛远在天边。两个门面之外一家药铺前就站着个警察，他光是笑了笑，顺着街走开去了。苏比一直过了五个街口，才再次鼓起勇气去追求被捕。这一回机会好极了，他还满以为十拿九稳，万无一失呢。一个衣着简朴颇为讨人喜欢的年轻女子站在橱窗前，兴味十足地盯着陈列的剃须缸与墨水台。而离店两码远，就有一位彪形大汉警察，表情严峻地靠在救火龙头上。苏比的计划是扮演一个下流的、讨厌的小流氓。他的对象文雅娴静，又有一位忠于职守的巡警近在咫尺，使他很有理由相信，警察那双可爱的手很快就会落到他身上，使他在岛上冬蛰的小安乐窝里吃喝不愁。苏比把教会女

33、士送的活结领带拉挺，把缩进袖口的衬衫袖子拉出来，把帽子往后一推，歪得马上要掉下来，向那女子挨将过去。他厚着面皮把小流氓该干的那一套恶心勾当一段段表演下去。苏比把眼光斜扫过去，只见那警察在盯住他。年轻女人挪动了几步，又专心致志地看起剃须缸来。苏比跟了过去，大胆地挨到她的身边，把帽子举了一举，说：“啊哈，我说，贝蒂丽亚！你不是说要到我院子里去玩儿吗？”麦琪的礼物 中英文对照麦琪的礼物一元八角七。全都在这儿了，其中六角是一分一分的铜板。这些分分钱是杂货店老板、菜贩子和肉店老板那儿软硬兼施地一分两分地扣下来，直弄得自己羞愧难当，深感这种掂斤播两的交易实在丢人现眼。德拉反复数了三次，还是一元八角七，而第

34、二天就是圣诞节了。除了扑倒在那破旧的小睡椅上哭嚎之外，显然别无他途。德拉这样作了，可精神上的感慨油然而生，生活就是哭泣、抽噎和微笑，尤以抽噎占统治地位。当这位家庭主妇逐渐平静下来之际，让我们看看这个家吧。一套带家具的公寓房子，每周房租八美元。尽管难以用笔墨形容，可它真真够得上乞丐帮这个词儿。楼下的门道里有个信箱，可从来没有装过信，还有一个电钮，也从没有人的手指按响过电铃。而且，那儿还有一张名片，上写着“詹姆斯?迪林厄姆?杨先生”。“迪林厄姆”这个名号是主人先前春风得意之际，一时兴起加上去的，那时候他每星期挣三十美元。现在，他的收入缩减到二十美元，“迪林厄姆”的字母也显得模糊不清，似乎它们正严肃

35、地思忖着是否缩写成谦逊而又讲求实际的字母D。不过，每当詹姆斯?迪林厄姆?杨回家，走进楼上的房间时，詹姆斯?迪林厄姆?杨太太，就是刚介绍给诸位的德拉，总是把他称作“吉姆”，而且热烈地拥抱他。那当然是再好不过的了。德拉哭完之后，往面颊上抹了抹粉，她站在窗前，痴痴地瞅着灰蒙蒙的后院里一只灰白色的猫正行走在灰白色的篱笆上。明天就是圣诞节，她只有一元八角七给吉姆买一份礼物。她花去好几个月的时间，用了最大的努力一分一分地攒积下来，才得了这样一个结果。一周二十美元实在经不起花，支出大于预算，总是如此。只有一元八角七给吉姆买礼物，她的吉姆啊。她花费了多少幸福的时日筹划着要送他一件可心的礼物，一件精致、珍奇、贵

36、重的礼物至少应有点儿配得上吉姆所有的东西才成啊。房间的两扇窗子之间有一面壁镜。也许你见过每周房租八美元的公寓壁镜吧。一个非常瘦小而灵巧的人，从观察自己在一连串的纵条影象中，可能会对自己的容貌得到一个大致精确的概念。德拉身材苗条，已精通了这门子艺术。突然，她从窗口旋风般地转过身来，站在壁镜前面。她两眼晶莹透亮，但二十秒钟之内她的面色失去了光彩。她急速地折散头发，使之完全泼散开来。现在，詹姆斯?迪林厄姆?杨夫妇俩各有一件特别引以自豪的东西。一件是吉姆的金表，是他祖父传给父亲，父亲又传给他的传家宝；另一件则是德拉的秀发。如果示巴女王也住在天井对面的公寓里，总有一天德拉会把头发披散下来，露出窗外晾干，

37、使那女王的珍珠宝贝黔然失色；如果地下室堆满金银财宝、所罗门王又是守门人的话，每当吉姆路过那儿，准会摸出金表，好让那所罗门王忌妒得吹胡子瞪眼睛。此时此刻，德拉的秀发泼撒在她的周围，微波起伏，闪耀光芒，有如那褐色的瀑布。她的美发长及膝下，仿佛是她的一件长袍。接着，她又神经质地赶紧把头发梳好。踌躇了一分钟，一动不动地立在那儿，破旧的红地毯上溅落了一、两滴眼泪。她穿上那件褐色的旧外衣，戴上褐色的旧帽子，眼睛里残留着晶莹的泪花，裙子一摆，便飘出房门，下楼来到街上。她走到一块招牌前停下来，上写着：“索弗罗妮夫人专营各式头发”。德拉奔上楼梯，气喘吁吁地定了定神。那位夫人身躯肥大，过于苍白，冷若冰霜，同“索弗

38、罗妮”的雅号简直牛头不对马嘴。“你要买我的头发吗？”德拉问。“我买头发，”夫人说。“揭掉帽子，让我看看发样。”那褐色的瀑布泼撒了下来。“二十美元，”夫人一边说，一边内行似地抓起头发。“快给我钱，”德拉说。呵，接着而至的两个小时犹如长了翅膀，愉快地飞掠而过。请不用理会这胡诌的比喻。她正在彻底搜寻各家店铺，为吉姆买礼物。她终于找到了，那准是专为吉姆特制的，决非为别人。她找遍了各家商店，哪儿也没有这样的东西，一条朴素的白金表链，镂刻着花纹。正如一切优质东西那样，它只以货色论长短，不以装潢来炫耀。而且它正配得上那只金表。她一见这条表链，就知道一定属于吉姆所有。它就像吉姆本人，文静而有价值这一形容对两者

39、都恰如其份。她花去二十一美元买下了，匆匆赶回家，只剩下八角七分钱。金表匹配这条链子，无论在任何场合，吉姆都可以毫无愧色地看时间了。尽管这只表华丽珍贵，因为用的是旧皮带取代表链，他有时只偷偷地瞥上一眼。德拉回家之后，她的狂喜有点儿变得审慎和理智了。她找出烫发铁钳，点燃煤气，着手修补因爱情加慷慨所造成的破坏，这永远是件极其艰巨的任务，亲爱的朋友们简直是件了不起的任务呵。不出四十分钟，她的头上布满了紧贴头皮的一绺绺小卷发，使她活像个逃学的小男孩。她在镜子里老盯着自己瞧，小心地、苛刻地照来照去。“假如吉姆看我一眼不把我宰掉的话，”她自言自语，“他定会说我像个科尼岛上合唱队的卖唱姑娘。但是我能怎么办呢唉

40、，只有一元八角七，我能干什么呢？”七点钟，她煮好了咖啡，把煎锅置于热炉上，随时都可作肉排。最后一片叶子欧亨利IIn 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 va

41、luable 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!在华盛顿广场西边的一个小区里，街道都横七竖八地伸展开去，又分裂成一小条一小条的“胡同”。这些“胡同”稀奇古怪地拐着弯子。一条街有时自己本身就交叉了不止一次。有一回一个画家发现这条街有一

42、种优越性：要是有个收帐的跑到这条街上，来催要颜料、纸张和画布的钱，他就会突然发现自己两手空空，原路返回，一文钱的帐也没有要到！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 Avenu

43、e, and became a colony.所以，不久之后不少画家就摸索到这个古色古香的老格林尼治村来，寻求朝北的窗户、18世纪的尖顶山墙、荷兰式的阁楼，以及低廉的房租。然后，他们又从第六街买来一些蜡酒杯和一两只火锅，这里便成了“艺术区”。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 tabl

44、e dh?te of an Eighth Street Delmonicos, 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

45、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 z

46、ephyrs 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.苏和琼西的画室设在一所又宽又矮的三层楼砖房的顶楼上。“琼西”是琼娜的爱称。她俩一个来自缅因州，一个是加利福尼亚州人

47、。她们是在第八街的“台尔蒙尼歌之家”吃份饭时碰到的，她们发现彼此对艺术、生菜色拉和时装的爱好非常一致，便合租了那间画室。那是5月里的事。到了11月，一个冷酷的、肉眼看不见的、医生们叫做“肺炎”的不速之客，在艺术区里悄悄地游荡，用他冰冷的手指头这里碰一下那里碰一下。在广场东头，这个破坏者明目张胆地踏着大步，一下子就击倒几十个受害者，可是在迷宫一样、狭窄而铺满青苔的“胡同”里，他的步伐就慢了下来。肺炎先生不是一个你们心目中行侠仗义的老的绅士。一个身子单薄，被加利福尼亚州的西风刮得没有血色的弱女子，本来不应该是这个有着红拳头的、呼吸急促的老家伙打击的对象。然而，琼西却遭到了打击；她躺在一张油漆过的铁

48、床上，一动也不动，凝望着小小的荷兰式玻璃窗外对面砖房的空墙。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

49、on the side of the undertaker makes the entire pharmacopoeia look silly. Your little lady has made up her mind that shes not going to get well. Has she anything on her mind?一天早晨，那个忙碌的医生扬了扬他那毛茸茸的灰白色眉毛，把苏叫到外边的走廊上。She - she wanted to paint the Bay of Naples some day. said Sue.Paint? - bosh! Has she any

50、thing on her mind worth thinking twice - a man for instance?A man? said Sue, with a jews-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, ca

51、n 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

52、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 Johnsys 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, thi

53、nking 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 ridi

54、ng 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.Johnsys eyes were open wide. She was looking out the window and counting - counting backward.Twelve, she said, and little later eleven; and then ten, a

55、nd 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

56、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. Theyre falling faster now. Three days ago there were almost a hundred. It made my hea

57、d ache to count them. But now its 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. Ive known that for three days. Didnt the doctor tell you?Oh, I never heard of such nonsense, complained Sue,

58、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. Dont be a goosey. Why, the doctor told me this morning that your chances for getting well real soon were - lets see exactly what he said - he said the chances were ten

59、to one! Why, thats 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

60、 self.You neednt get any more wine, said Johnsy, keeping her eyes fixed out the window. There goes another. No, I dont want any broth. That leaves just four. I want to see the last one fall before it gets dark. Then Ill go, too.Johnsy, dear, said Sue, bending over her, will you promise me to keep yo

61、ur 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.Couldnt you draw in the other room? asked Johnsy, coldly.Id rather be here by you, said Sue. Beside, I dont want you to keep looking at th

62、ose 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. Im tired of waiting. Im tired of thinking. I want to turn loose my hold on everything, and go sailing down, down, just like o

63、ne of those poor, tired leaves.Try to sleep, said Sue. I must call Behrman up to be my model for the old hermit miner. Ill not be gone a minute. Dont 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 Angelos Moses be

64、ard 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 Mistresss robe. He had been always about to paint a masterpiece, but had never yet begun it. For several years he had painte