WHILE THE AUTO WAITS

Date: 2015-10-07; view: 581.

After O. Henry

The girl in grey comes to that small park in the twilight. She sits down upon a bench and begins to read a book. Her dress is grey and very simple. Her face is very beautiful. She comes here at the same hour the last two evenings. And there is a young man who knows it.

The young man comes near. At that moment the girl's book falls down to the ground. The young man takes the book from the ground, gives it to the girl and says a few words about the weather.

The girl looks at his simple coat and his common face. "You may sit down, if you like," she says. "The light is too bad, I cannot read. Let's talk a little."

"Do you know," he says, "that you are a beautiful girl. I see you here sometimes."

"Whoever you are,"¹ says the girl coldly, "you must re­member that I am a lady."

"I beg your pardon"² says the young man. "You know — there are girls in parks, you know — of course, you don't know, but ..."

"Let's change the subject. Of course, I know. Now tell me about these people. Where are they going? Are they hap­py?»

The young man cannot understand his role.

"I come to this park because I can be near the common people here. I speak to you because I want to talk to a sim­ple man, a man who is not rich. Oh, you don't know how

¹ whoever you are — кто бы вы ни были

² I beg your pardon — извините

tired I am of it—money, money, money! And I am tired of the rich men whom I meet every day. I am tired of pleasure, of jewels, of travels!"

"I think," says the young man, "that money must be a very good thing."

"When you have so many millions that—Drives, dinners, theatres, suppers! I am tired of it," says the young girl. The young man looks at her with interest.

"I like to read and to hear about the life of rich people," he says.

"Sometimes I think that I can love only a simple man," the young girl says. "What is your profession?"

"I am a very simple man. But I hope to rise in the world.¹ I work at a restaurant," says he.

"Not as a waiter?" she asks.

"I am a cashier in the restaurant that you see there with that brilliant electric sign: 'RESTAURANT'."

The girl looks at her watch and stands up. "Why are you not at work?" she asks.

"I am on the night shift,"² says the young man. "May I hope to see you again?

"I don't know, perhaps. I must go quickly now. Oh, there is a dinner and then a play at the theatre tonight. My white automobile is at the corner of the park. I always come in it. The driver is waiting for me there. Good night."

"But it is dark now," says the young man, "and the park is full of rude men. May I go with you to the car?"

"No. Stay on this bench for ten minutes."

And she goes away. The young man looks at her elegant figure while she is going to the gate of the park. Then he stands up and follows her. When she goes out of the park she turns her head and looks at the car, then passes it, cros­ses the street and enters the restaurant with the brilliant electric sign: 'RESTAURANT'.

A girl with red hair leaves the cashier's desk, and the girl in grey takes her place.

The young man puts his hands into his pockets and walks slowly down the street. Then he steps into the white auto­mobile and says to the driver: 'Club, Henry'.

THE LAST LEAF

After О. Henry

Sue and Johnsy were poor artists. They lived in a street where many art people lived. The girls had a studio at the top of a three-story brick house.

In autumn Johnsy fell ill. It was pneumonia. There were many cases of pneumonia that year. Johnsy lay in bed and looked through the window at the brick wall of the next house.

One morning the doctor invited Sue into the corridor.

"The girl is seriously ill," he said, "she has one chance in ten. And that chance is for her to want to live.¹ The little lady thinks that she cannot get well. I promise to do all that I can. You must help me. Make her think not of her illness but of some other things."

Sue came back into Johnsy's room. Johnsy lay with her face towards the window. Sue thought she was asleep and began to draw pictures for a magazine story. Suddenly she heard a low sound. She went quickly to the bed. Johnsy's eyes were open wide.

"Twelve, eleven, ten," she counted, "Nine, eight, seven."

Sue looked out of the window. "What is Johnsy counting?" She could see only a yard and the brick wall of the next house. An old, old ivy vine climbed up the brick wall. There were only a few leaves on it.

"What is it, dear?" asked Sue.

"Six," said Johnsy. "Three days ago there were almost & \ hundred leaves on the ivy vine. Now they are falling faster. There are only five leaves now. When the last leaf falls I must * go too. Didn't the doctor tell you?"

"Oh, I never heard of such nonsense," said Sue. "What have old ivy leaves to do with your illness?² Don't be silly. Try to take some soup now and let me draw my pictures."

But Johnsy did not turn her head from the ivy vine. "No, I don't want any soup. There are four leaves now. I want to see the last leaf. I know it must fall soon, and then I must die too."

¹ to rise in the world — добиться положения в обществе

² I am on the night shift — я (работаю) в ночную смену

¹ for her to want to live — чтобы она хотела жить

² What have old ivy leaves to do with your illness? — Какое
отношение имеют листья старого плюща к твоей болезни?

"Johnsy, dear," said Sue, "close your eyes and don't look out of the window. I must finish my pictures by to­morrow and send them. I need the light and cannot draw the curtains down."

"Can you draw in the other room?" asked Johnsy, coldly.

"I want to be near you," said Sue.

Johnsy closed her eyes and lay white and still. "I am tired of waiting, I am tired of thinking,"¹ said she. "I want to go down, down, like one of those poor, tired leaves."

"Try to sleep," said Sue. "I must call Behrman. I want to ask him to pose for me."

Old Behrman was an artist too. He lived on the ground floor in the same house. He was over sixty. Behrman was a failure in art, but he still hoped to paint a masterpiece. Now he painted only advertisements. Sometimes he served as a model to young artists.

Sue found Behrman in his little room. She told him about Johnsy's illness.

"My friend is very ill and weak," she said. "She thinks that she must die when the last leaf falls from the ivy vine.' They went upstairs. Johnsy was asleep. Sue drew the cur­tain down and invited Behrman into the other room. There they looked out of the window. They looked at the ivy vine. Then they looked at each other for a moment but said nothing. It was a cold autumn night, a cold rain began to fall. Behr­man, in his old shirt, took his seat to pose for Sue.

When Sue got up the next morning and came up to John­sy's bed, Johnsy was not asleep.

"Draw the curtain up," said Johnsy. "I want to see." After the heavy rain and the strong wind that blew all night long there was still one leaf on the ivy vine.

"It is the last leaf," said Johnsy. "If must fall to-day and I must die at the same time."

"Dear, dearl" said Sue, "think of me, if you don't want to think of yourself. What would I do?"²

But Johnsy did not answer.

The day passed and even in the evening they.could see one leaf on the ivy vine.

At night the weather was bad again, a cold wind blew again, and it rained. In the morning the girls looked out of the window. The ivy leaf was still there.

Johnsy lay for a long time and looked at the leaf. Then she said: "I was a bad girl, because I wanted to die, Sue. You may bring me a little soup now and some milk. But first bring me a mirror and help me sit up. I want to watch you cook."¹

An hour later she said, "Sue, some day I hope to paint a beautiful picture."

The doctor came in the afternoon. In the corridor he said to Sue, "She is much better now, she is getting well. Now I must go downstairs. Behrman, an artist, is seriously ill. Pneumonia too. He is an old weak man. There is no hope for him."

The next day the doctor said to Sue, "She is out of danger. Good food and care now—that's all."

And that afternoon Sue came to. the bed where Johnsy lay.

"I have something to tell you, dear," she said. "Mr. Behr­man died of pneumonia today in, the hospital. He was ill only two days. They found him in the morning of the first day in his room seriously ill. His shoes and clothes were wet and very cold. They also found a lamp and a ladder/' some brushes and some yellow and green colours. Now look out of the window, dear, at the last ivy leaf on the wall. Didn't you wonder why it never moved when the wind blew? Ah, dear, it's Behrman's masterpiece—he painted it there the night that the last leaf fell."