The last leaf

(After O. Henry)

Sue and Johnsy were poor artists who lived in a little New York district west of Washington Square. They painted pictures which they hoped to sell. Their studio was on the third floor of an old brick house.

They became friends in May and decided to live together. In November Johnsy fell ill. She lay in bed near the window and looked at the side of the next brick house.

One morning, the doctor asked Sue to come out into the corridor.

"Your friend is very ill, she has one chance let ‘s say, in ten,” he said as he looked at his clinical thermometer. And that chance is for her to want to live. Your little lady has decided that she’s not going to get well. I promise to do all that I can, but you must help me. Let her think not of her illness, but of some other things."

After the doctor had gone, Sue went into Johnsy's room. Johnsy lay with her face towards the window. Sue thought that she was sleeping. So she began a drawing to illustrate a magazine story.

As Sue was working she heard Johnsy counting. She went quickly to the bedside. Johnsy's eyes were open. She was looking out of the window and counting something.

"Twelve," she said, and a 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 a yard and the brick wall of the next house. An old, old ivy-vine was growing on the brick wall. There were only a few leaves on it.

"What is it, dear?" asked Sue.

"Six," said Johnsy. "They're falling faster now. Three days ago there were almost a hundred. There goes another one. There are only five left now."

"Five what, dear? Tell me."

"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," said Sue. ""The doctor told me this morning that your chances for getting well were ten to one! Try to take some soup now and let me draw my pictures."

"No, I don't want any soup. There are only four now. I want to see the last one fall before it gets dark. Then I'll go, too."

"Johnsy, dear," said Sue, "will you promise me to keep your eyes shut, and not look out of the window until I finish working? I need the light."

"Tell me as soon as you have finished," said Johnsy, shutting her eyes, and lying white and still as a fallen statue, "because I want to see the last one fall."

"Try to sleep," said Sue. "I must call Behrman up to be my model.

The great fire of london

The London оf the middle оf the 17th century was a city of narrow, dirty streets. The streets were so narrow that it was often possible for a person at a window on one side of the street to shake hands with a neighbour on the other side. There was little light or air. Rubbish lay piled up in dark corners. It is no wonder that epidemics were common.

The greatest epidemic was the plague which broke out in 1655. It was a sad time for London. The streets were empty, shops were closed and there were few boats on the Thames. Every house, in which there were sick people, was shut tip, no one was allowed to go in or out, and the door of the house was marked with a red cross.

The following year the Great Fire took place. It broke out late on a Saturday night in a street not far from London Bridge. The summer had been dry, a hot east wind was blowing and the fire spread quickly. This is what we read in the diary of John Evelyn who saw the terrible fire with his own eyes. "The Thames was covered with boats full of people. On the other side one could see carts carrying saved goods out into the fields and people putting up tents. At night the fire could be seen ten miles away".

The fire burned for five days and destroyed the greater part of the city. But it did the city good, as it cleared away the old wooden houses and the dirty, narrow streets.

A monument near London Bridge still marks the spot where the fire broke out. Sir Christopher Wren, the famous architect of that day, took part in rebuilding the city. The greater part of it had been of wood, but after the fire wider streets and brick houses were built. The old church of St. Paul was among the buildings destroyed by the fire. In its place Wren built, the present St. Paul's Cathedral. He lies buried under the roof of his own great work. These words are written on his tomb: "If you want to see his monument, look around".