最后一片叶子英文PPT
the last leaf 最后一片叶子
Clue 3: soup
Clue 4: the Bay of Naples
Clue 5: Behrman’s masterpiece
Clue 2: the doctor’s three visits 1. Johnsy was seriously ill. (LL. 11~23)
Scenes
5 6 7
Paragraphs Characters
Events
Sue, Paras 22-33 Johnsy
the doctor, Paras 34-37 Sue
As Johnsy was encouraged by the last leaf that wouldn’t give in to the weather, her will to live returned.
Clue 5: Behrman’s masterpiece
1. Old Behrman was a failure in art. He had always talked about a masterpiece, yet he was unable to deliver it. (LL. 56~58)
2. “Someday I will paint a masterpiece, and we shall all go away.” (LL. 73~74)
3. Finally, Old Behrman painted his masterpiece at the cost of his life. (LL. 119~128)
The doctor told Sue that Johnsy would recover, but Behrman caught pneumonia himself and his case was hopeless.
最后一片叶子PPT
“世界三大短篇小说之王”之一. 代表作：《最后一片叶子》《麦琪 的礼物》、《警察和赞美诗》等。
速读课文
复述故事
1 、文中主要写了哪几个人物？ 2 、主要写了什么事？
文中与“最后一片叶子 ”直接相关的人 物有哪几个？“最后一片叶子 ”对他们 分别有着怎样非同寻常的意义?
“贝尔曼”精神的人。写一写他或她的事 迹
最 后 一 片 叶 子
乔安西: 获得新生
贝尔曼: 献出生命
1;为什么最后一片藤叶能救乔安西？
她把这最后一片叶子作为自己生命的征兆， 作为放弃生命的理由。藤叶越掉越少，落光之 日就是自己死亡之时．没想到最后一片叶子历 经了一天一夜风雨仍傲然挂在墙上，乔安西从 叶子中得到了启示，有了活下去的信念。
2:贝尔曼作画四十年都没有画出惊人之作，为何他 在一夜之间画出的常春藤叶子却被称为杰作？ 因为这片叶子唤起了乔安西求生的信念, 挽救了 一个年轻而几乎丧失求生欲望的生 命.它融进了贝尔曼的爱和宝贵生命，成了 真正的不朽杰作.
各抒己见
Байду номын сангаас 文中对贝尔曼都用了哪些描写方法？
他是个怎样的人?
正面描写（外貌 语言 侧面描写
动作）
普通的 外表下 有一颗 善良的心
乔安西
战胜病魔获新生
１ １
希望
贝 尔 曼
１１１
舍 身 忘 已 绘 藤 叶
奉献 奉献
线 索
友情
相 濡 以 沫 显 真 情
休
易
藤叶的外形像一个什么字呢？
作 业
运用你会发现美的眼睛找找生活中有
英语PPT之unit_6_the_last_leaf
Cabbages and Kings
His main works
(1904) (a collection of stories) The Four Million (1906)
(a collection of stories) The Heart of the West
(1907) (a collection of stories)
The sixth Scene Para.34-37
Characters
the doctor, Sue
Event
The doctor told Sue that Johnsy would Recovered but Behrman caught pneumonia himself and his case was hopeless.
personification "The shoes danced across the floor" "the storm is lifting its black arms to the sky"
the Second Scene Para.3-8
Characters
The doctor told Sue that Johnsy needed a strong will to live on.
The Cop and the Anthem The Gift of the Magi The Last Leaf The Furnished Room
Please tell me the five elements of a novel: time, place, persons, event and end.
The first scene para.1-2
最后一片叶子The last leaf[优质PPT]
![最后一片叶子The last leaf[优质PPT]](https://img.taocdn.com/s3/m/283ae149ba1aa8114531d930.png)
short but to the point
The last leaf tells the story of Johnsy, who ______________________. While her friend, Sue,__________________________________, she______________________. To our great surprise, their neighbour, Behrman, ________________________________. At last _______________________________.
Personality Examples(why) Ma…inis a/a(nw…ha.tgkirinl/dman, because she/he… charaocrtIenrsLipneer_s_o,n…he(w/sohrediss/)sentences) tells us she/he is...
some writing techniques.
O. Henry was an American short story writer, whose stories are set in his own time, the early 20th century. Many take place in New York City and deal with ordinary people. Among them, The Gift of the Magi, The Cop and The Anthem and The Last Leaf enjoy huge popularity.
最后一片叶子(中英对照)
最后一片叶子（欧亨利小说）编辑《最后一片叶子》，一译《最后的常春藤叶》，主人公是琼西、艾、贝尔曼。
文中作者着力挖掘和赞美小人物的伟大人格和高尚品德，展示他们向往人性世界的美好愿望。
最后一片叶子”的故事，着实让我们为琼西的命运紧了一番，为艾的友谊感叹了一回，为贝尔曼的博爱震撼了一次。
作者通过对穷苦朋友间友谊的描写，刻画出一个舍己为人的以自己生命为代价创造真正杰作的画家形象，讴歌了以贝尔曼为代表的普通人的高尚。
书名最后一片叶子又名最后的常春藤叶作者欧·亨利原版名称The Last Leaf装帧平装开本161作者简介▪生平▪手法2作品容3作品原文▪中文原文▪英文原文4作品赏析1作者简介编辑生平1862年9月11日，美国最著名的短篇小说家之——欧·亨利（O.Henry）出生于美国北卡罗来纳州有个名叫格林斯波罗的小镇。
曾被评论界誉为曼哈顿桂冠散文作家和美国现代短篇小说之父。
1862年他出身于美国北卡罗来纳州格林斯波罗镇一个医师家庭。
父亲是医生。
他原名威廉·西德尼·波特(William Sydney Porter)。
他所受教育不多，15岁便开始在药房当学徒，20岁时由于健康原因去德克萨斯州的一个牧场当了两年牧牛人，积累了对西部生活的亲身经验。
1884年以后做过会计员、土地局办事员、新闻记者。
此后，他在德克萨斯做过不同的工作，包括在奥斯汀银行当出纳员。
他还办过一份名为《滚石》的幽默周刊，并在休斯敦一家日报上发表幽默小说和趣闻逸事。
1887年，亨利结婚并生了一个女儿。
正当他的生活颇为安定之时，却发生了一件改变他命运的事情。
1896年，奥斯汀银行指控他在任职期间盗用资金。
他为了躲避受审，逃往洪都拉斯。
1897年，后因回家探视病危的妻子被捕入狱，判处5年徒刑。
在狱中曾担任药剂师，他创作第一部作品的起因是为了给女儿买圣诞礼物，但基于犯人的身份不敢使用真名，乃用一部法国药典的编者的名字作为笔名，在《麦克吕尔》杂志发表。
最后一片叶子The last leaf概要
How to summarize a story?
short but to the point
The last leaf tells the story of Johnsy, who ______________________. While her friend, Sue,__________________________________, she______________________. To our great surprise, their neighbour, Behrman, ________________________________. At last _______________________________.
waited to die(pinned her destiny to the survival of one last leaf)… constantly encouraged Johnsy and attended to her carefully (stirring her chicken soup… ) For forty years he had been about to paint a masterpiece; a sacrificed fierce little old hisman; life to shouted his contempt… save Johnsy
Personality
Examples(why)
(what kind …is a/an ….girl/man, because she/he… Main person…(words/sentences) he/she is) or In Line__, tells us she/he is... characters Johnsy pessimistic; stubborn…
最后一片叶子
苏艾把琼珊的胡思乱想告诉了他，还说 她害怕琼珊自个儿瘦小柔弱得像一片叶 子一样，对这个世界的留恋越来越微弱， 恐怕真会离世飘走了。
老贝尔曼两只发红的眼睛显然在迎风流泪，他十分轻蔑地嗤笑这种 傻呆的胡思乱想。
• 他们上楼以后，琼珊正睡着觉。苏艾把窗 帘拉下，一直遮住窗台，做手势叫贝尔曼 到隔壁屋子里去。他们在那里提心吊胆地 瞅着窗外那棵常春藤。后来他们默默无言， 彼此对望了一会。寒冷的雨夹杂着雪花不 停地下着。贝尔曼穿着他的旧蓝衬衣，坐 在一把翻过来充当岩石的铁壶上，扮作隐 居的矿工。
“哎呀，哎呀，”苏艾把疲乏的脸庞挨近枕头边上对她说，“你不 肯为自己着想，也得为我想想啊。我可怎么办呢？” 可是琼珊不回答。当一个灵魂正在准备走上那神秘的、遥远的死亡 之途时，她是世界上最寂寞的人了。那些把她和友谊极大地联结起 来的关系逐渐消失以后，她那个狂想越来越强烈了。 白天总算过去了，甚至在暮色中她们还能看见那片孤零零的藤叶仍 紧紧地依附在靠墙的枝上。后来，夜的来临带来呼啸的北风，雨点 不停地拍打着窗子，雨水从低垂的荷兰式屋檐上流泻下来。
苏艾去楼下找插画对象，贝尔曼 老贝尔曼是住在她们这座楼房底层的一个画 家。他年过60，有一把像米开朗琪罗的摩西 雕像那样的大胡子，这胡子长在一个像半人 半兽的森林之神的头颅上，又鬈曲地飘拂在 小鬼似的身躯上。贝尔曼是个失败的画家。 他操了四十年的画笔，还远没有摸着艺术女 神的衣裙。他老是说就要画他的那幅杰作了， 可是直到现在他还没有动笔。几年来，他除 了偶尔画点商业广告之类的玩意儿以外，什 么也没有画过。他给艺术区里穷得雇不起职 业模特儿的年轻画家们当模特儿，挣一点钱。 他喝酒毫无节制，还时常提起他要画的那幅 杰作。除此以外，他是一个火气十足的小老 头子，十分瞧不起别人的温情，却认为自己 是专门保护楼上画室里那两个年轻女画家的 一只看家犬。
欧亨利《最后一片叶子》(又名《最后的常春藤叶》)课件PPT(35页)
整体感知
故事发生在什么地方？
故事发生在华盛顿广场西边的 一个胡同区里。
整体感知
作者围绕最后一片叶子写了哪些人物？ 哪些是主要人物？
作者所写的人物： 苏、琼西、贝尔曼、医生。 主要人物： 苏、琼西、贝尔曼。
整体感知
“最后一片叶子” 在全文起什么作用？
答：“最后一片叶子”起到了贯穿文章故事情节的作用， 连接了琼西由病重到好转、贝尔曼去世的事件。
侧面—— 通过医生和苏的对话间接写贝尔曼。贝尔曼为了 挽救琼西的生命，冒雨画最后一片叶子，得了肺 炎去世。他是一个有自我牺牲的精神的人。
内 容 探 究
总结：贝尔曼在他平凡甚至 有点讨厌的外表下，藏着一 颗火热的爱心，虽然穷困潦 倒，却默默关心、帮助他人， 甚至不惜付出生命的代价。
NEIRONGTANJIU
创作背景
《最后一片叶子》的故事的场景是纽约市的 格林尼治艺术家聚居区。百年来，那里已然从身 处窘境的文人聚居区发展为举世闻名的艺术中心 和旅游胜地。因此，从欧·亨利的创作时代即可 获得主人公的生存状况，他们是许多未成名艺术 家的代表，他们梦想着改变现状。
The last leaf
文章体裁
小
Fiction
说
• 小说是以塑造人物形象为中心，通过故事情节叙述和 环境描写反映社会生活的一种文学体裁。
• 人物形象、故事情节、环境是小说的三要素。
• 其中，人物是最主要的要素。人物是小说的核心，情节是 骨GANZHI
生字词
bǐ bó
鄙薄
wēn
瘟神
miè
轻蔑
xǔ
自诩
dònɡ tɑn
NEIRONGTANJIU
内
容
2.在琼西命悬一线的情况下，苏是如何照顾她的？
最后一片叶子[中英对照]
![最后一片叶子[中英对照]](https://img.taocdn.com/s3/m/43a42157856a561253d36f44.png)
最后一片叶子（欧亨利小说）编辑《最后一片叶子》，一译《最后的常春藤叶》，主人公是琼西、艾、贝尔曼。
文中作者着力挖掘和赞美小人物的伟大人格和高尚品德，展示他们向往人性世界的美好愿望。
最后一片叶子”的故事，着实让我们为琼西的命运紧了一番，为艾的友谊感叹了一回，为贝尔曼的博爱震撼了一次。
作者通过对穷苦朋友间友谊的描写，刻画出一个舍己为人的以自己生命为代价创造真正杰作的画家形象，讴歌了以贝尔曼为代表的普通人的高尚。
书名最后一片叶子又名最后的常春藤叶作者欧·亨利原版名称The Last Leaf装帧平装开本161作者简介▪生平▪手法2作品容3作品原文▪中文原文▪英文原文4作品赏析1作者简介编辑生平1862年9月11日，美国最著名的短篇小说家之——欧·亨利（O.Henry）出生于美国北卡罗来纳州有个名叫格林斯波罗的小镇。
曾被评论界誉为曼哈顿桂冠散文作家和美国现代短篇小说之父。
1862年他出身于美国北卡罗来纳州格林斯波罗镇一个医师家庭。
父亲是医生。
他原名威廉·西德尼·波特(William Sydney Porter)。
他所受教育不多，15岁便开始在药房当学徒，20岁时由于健康原因去德克萨斯州的一个牧场当了两年牧牛人，积累了对西部生活的亲身经验。
1884年以后做过会计员、土地局办事员、新闻记者。
此后，他在德克萨斯做过不同的工作，包括在奥斯汀银行当出纳员。
他还办过一份名为《滚》的幽默刊，并在休斯敦一家日报上发表幽默小说和趣闻逸事。
1887年，亨利结婚并生了一个女儿。
正当他的生活颇为安定之时，却发生了一件改变他命运的事情。
1896年，奥斯汀银行指控他在任职期间盗用资金。
他为了躲避受审，逃往洪都拉斯。
1897年，后因回家探视病危的妻子被捕入狱，判处5年徒刑。
在狱中曾担任药剂师，他创作第一部作品的起因是为了给女儿买圣诞礼物，但基于犯人的身份不敢使用真名，乃用一部法国药典的编者的名字作为笔名，在《麦克尔》杂志发表。
最后一片叶子(中英对照)
最后一片叶子（欧亨利小说）编辑《最后一片叶子》,一译《最后的常春藤叶》,主人公是琼西.苏艾.贝尔曼.文中作者出力发掘和赞扬小人物的巨大人格和崇高品格,展现他们神往人道世界的美妙欲望.最后一片叶子”的故事,实在让我们为琼西的命运重要了一番,为苏艾的友情感慨了一回,为贝尔曼的博爱震动了一次.作者经由过程对富裕同伙间友情的描述,描述出一个舍己为人的以本身性命为代价创造真正佳构的画家形象,赞扬了以贝尔曼为代表的通俗人的崇高.书名最后一片叶子又名最后的常春藤叶作者欧·亨利原版名称The Last Leaf装帧平装开本161作者简介▪生平▪手段2作品内容3作品原文▪中文原文▪英文原文4作品赏析作者简介编辑生平1862年9月11日,美国最有名的短篇小说家之——欧·亨利（O.Henry）出生于美国北卡罗来纳州有个名叫格林斯波罗的小镇.曾被评论界誉为曼哈顿桂冠散文作家和美国现代短篇小说之父.1862年他出身于美国北卡罗来纳州格林斯波罗镇一个医师家庭.父亲是大夫.他原名威廉·西德尼·波特(William Sydney Porter).他所受教导不久不多,15岁便开端在药房当学徒,20岁时因为健康原因去德克萨斯州的一个牧场当了两年牧牛人,积聚了对西部生涯的亲自经验.1884年今后做过管帐员.地盘局处事员.消息记者.此后,他在德克萨斯做过不合的工作,包含在奥斯汀银行当出纳员.他还办过一份名为《滚石》的滑稽周刊,并在休斯敦一家日报上揭橥滑稽小说和妙闻逸事.1887年,亨利娶亲并生了一个女儿. 合法他的生涯颇为安定之时,却产生了一件转变他命运的工作.1896年,奥斯汀银行指控他在任职时代盗用资金.他为了回避受审,逃往洪都拉斯.1897年,后因回家探视病危的老婆被捕入狱,判处5年徒刑.在狱中曾担任配药师,他创作第一部作品的原由是为了给女儿买圣诞礼品,但基于罪人的身份不敢应用真名,乃用一部法国药典的编者的名字作为笔名,在《麦克吕尔》杂志揭橥.1901年,因“行动优越”提前获释,来到纽约专事写作. 合法他的创作力最兴旺的时刻,健康状况却开端恶化,于1910年病逝.欧·亨利在精确十年的时光内创作了短篇小说共有300多篇,收入《白菜与国王》(1904)[其独一一部长篇,作者经由过程四五条并行的线索,试图描述出一幅辽阔的画面,在写法上有它的新鲜之处.不过从另一方面看,小说章与章之间的内涵接洽不敷慎密,各有自力的内容].《四百万》(1906).《西部之心》(1907).《市声》(1908).《滚石》(1913)等集子,个中以描述纽约曼哈顿市平易近生涯的作品为最有名.他把那儿的街道.小饭店.破旧的公寓的氛围衬着得十分传神,故有“曼哈顿的桂冠诗人”之称.他曾以骗子的生涯为题材,写了很多短篇小说.作者妄图标明道貌岸然的上流社会里,有很多人就是高等的骗子,成功的骗子.欧·亨利对社会与人生的不雅察和剖析其实不深入,有些作品比较浅陋,但他平生困窘,常与掉意崎岖潦倒的小人物安危与共,又能以标新立异的艺术手段表示他们庞杂的情感.他的作品构想新鲜,说话滑稽,终局经常出人不测;又因描述了浩瀚的人物,富于生涯情趣,被誉为“美国生涯的滑稽百科全书”.是以,他最一般的短篇小说如《爱的就义》(A Service of Love).《警员与赞扬诗》(The Cop and the Anthem).《带家具出租的房间》(The Furnished Room).《麦琪的礼品》(The Gift of the Magi).《最后的常春藤叶》（The Last Leaf）等都可列入世界优良短篇小说之中.他的文字活泼活泼,善于应用双关语.讹音.谐音和旧典新意,妙趣横生,被喻为[含泪的微笑].他还以精确的细节描述,制作与再现氛围,特殊是大都邑夜生涯的氛围.手段欧·亨利还以善于结尾有名遐迩,美国文学界称之为“欧·亨利式的结尾”他善于戏剧性地设计情节,埋下伏笔,作好铺垫,勾画抵触,最后在结尾处忽然让人物的心理情境产生出人料想的变更,或使主人公命运陡然逆转,使读者觉得名顿开,柳暗花明,既在料想之外,又在情理之中,不由拍案称奇,从而造成独特的艺术魅力.有一种被称为“含泪的微笑”的独特艺术作风.欧·亨利把小说的魂魄全都凝集在结尾部分,让读者在前的似乎是平庸无奇的而又是滑稽滑稽的娓娓动人的描述中,不知不觉地进入作者精心设置的迷宫,直到最后,忽如电光一闪,才照亮了先前隐蔽着的一切,仿佛在和读者捉迷藏,或者在玩弄障眼法,给读者最后一个惊喜.在欧·亨利之前,其他短篇小说家也已经如许测验测验过这种出乎料想的终局.但是欧·亨利对此应用得更为经常,更为天然,也更为纯熟老到.作品内容编辑穷画家琼珊得了宿疾,在病房里看着窗外对面树上的常春藤叶子不竭被风吹落,她认为最后一片叶子的凋零代表本身的逝世亡,于是她掉去了生计的意志.大夫认为再如许下去琼珊会逝世去.贝尔曼,一个巨大的画家,在听完苏艾讲述室友琼珊的工作后,夜里冒着暴雨,居心灵的画笔划出了一片“永不凋零”的常春藤叶,让琼珊重拾对性命的欲望,而本身却是以患上肺炎,逝世了.作品原文编辑中文原文在华盛顿广场西面的一个小区里,街道仿佛发了狂似的分成了很多叫做“小路”的小胡同.这些“小路”形成很多独特的角度和曲线.一条街有时本身本身就交叉了不止一次.有一回一个画家发明这条街有他的宝贵之处.假如一个商人去收颜料.纸张和画布的账款,在这条街上迂回曲折.大兜圈子的时刻,忽然碰着一毛钱也充公到.白手而归的本身,那才有意思呢！所以,不久之后很多画家就探索到这个古色古喷鼻的老格林尼治村来了.他们逛来逛去,追求朝北的窗户.18世纪的三角墙.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锡蜡杯子和一两只烘锅,构成了一个“艺术区”.苏艾和琼珊在一座矮墩墩的的三层楼砖屋的顶楼设立了她们的画室.“琼珊”是琼西的昵称.她俩一个来自缅因州,一个是加利福尼亚州人.她们是在德尔蒙戈饭店吃客饭时碰着的,彼此一谈,发明她们对艺术.饮食.衣着的口胃十分相投,成果便结合租下了那间画室.那是5月里的事.到了11月,一个冷淡的.肉眼看不见的.大夫们叫做“肺炎”的不速之客,在艺术区里静静地浪荡,用他冰冷的手指头这里碰一下那边碰一下.在广场东头,这个损坏者堂堂皇皇地踏着大步,一会儿就击倒几十个受害者,可是在迷宫一样.狭小而铺满青的“胡同”里,他的程序就慢了下来.肺炎师长教师不是一个你们心目中抱不平的老绅士.一个身子单薄,被加利福尼亚州的西风刮得没有赤色的弱女子,本来不该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床上,一动也不动,凝睇着小小的荷兰式玻璃窗外对面砖房的空墙.一天凌晨,谁人劳碌的大夫扬了扬他那毛茸茸的灰白色眉毛,把苏叫到外边的走廊上.“我看,她的病只有一成欲望,”他说,一面把体温表里的水银甩下去,“这一成欲望在于她本身要不要活下去.人们不想活,宁愿照料殡仪馆的生意,这种精力状况使医药束手无策.你的这位蜜斯满肚子认为本身不会好了.她有什么苦衷吗？”“她——她欲望有一天可以或许去画那不勒斯海湾.”苏艾说.“绘画？——别瞎扯了！她心里有没有值得想两次的工作.比方说,[1]汉子？”“汉子？”苏艾像吹口琴似的扯着嗓子说,“汉子岂非值得... ...不,大夫,没有如许的事.”“能达到的全体力气去治疗她.可如果我的病人开端算计会有若干辆马车送她出丧,我就得把治疗的后果减掉落百分之五十.只要你能设法主意让她对冬季大衣袖子的时新式样觉得兴致而提出一两个问题,那我可以向你包管把医好她的机遇从十分之一进步到五分之一.”大夫走后,苏艾走进工作室里,把一条日本餐巾哭成一团湿.后来她手里拿着画板,装做精力焕发的样子走进琼西的房子,嘴里吹着爵士音乐调子.琼西躺着,脸朝着窗口,被子底下的身材纹丝不动.苏认为她睡着了,赶忙停滞吹口哨.她架好画板,开端给杂志里的故事画一张钢笔插图.年青的画家为了摊平通向艺术的道路,不克不及不给杂志里的故事画插图,而这些故事又是年青的作家为了摊平通向文学的道路而不克不及不写的.苏艾正在给故事主人公,一个爱达荷州牧人的身上,画上一条马匹博览会穿的时兴马裤和一片单眼镜时,溘然听到一个反复了几回的低微的声音.她快步走到床边.琼珊的眼睛睁得很大.她望着窗外,数着……倒过来数.“12,”她数道,歇了一会又说,“11”,然后是“10”,和“9”,接着几乎同时数着“8”和“7”.苏艾关心地看了看窗外.那儿有什么可数的呢？只见一个空荡昏暗的院子,20英尺以外还有一所砖房的空墙.一棵老极了的常春藤,枯萎的根纠结在一块,枝干攀在砖墙的半腰上.秋天的北风把藤上的叶子差不久不多全都吹掉落了,几乎只有光秃的枝条还缠附在剥落的砖块上.“什么,友爱的？”苏问道.“6,”琼西几乎用私语低声说道,“它们如今越落越快了.三天前还有差不久不多一百片.我数得头都疼了.但是如今好数了.又掉落了一片.只剩下五片了.”“五片什么,友爱的.告知你的苏艾.”“叶子.常春藤上的.等到最后一片叶子掉落下来,我也就该去了.这件事我三天前就知道了.岂非大夫没有告知你？”“哟,我从来没听过这么荒谬的话,”苏艾满不在乎地说,“那些破常春藤叶子同你的病有什么相关？你以前不是很爱好这棵树吗？得啦,你这个调皮的姑娘.不要说傻话了.瞧,大夫今天凌晨还告知我,说你敏捷痊愈的机遇是,让我想想他是怎么说的---他说你好的几率有十比一！噢,那的确和我们在纽约坐电车或者走过一座新楼房的掌控一样大.喝点汤吧,让苏艾去画她的画,好把它卖给编辑师长教师,换了钱来给她的病孩子买点红葡萄酒,再买些猪排给本身解解馋.”“你不必买酒了,”琼珊的眼睛直盯着窗外说道,“又落了一片.不,我不想喝汤.只剩下四片了.我想在天黑以前等着看那最后一片叶子掉落下去.然后我也要去了.”“琼珊,友爱的,”苏艾俯着身子对她说,“等我画完行吗？明天我必定得交出这些插图.我须要光线,不然我就拉下窗帘了.”“你就不克不及到另一间房子里去画吗？”琼西冷冷地问道.“我要在这儿陪你,和你在一路,”苏艾说,“再说,我不爱好你老是盯着那些叶子看.”“你一画完就叫我,”琼珊说着,便闭上了眼睛.她神色惨白,一动不动地躺在床上,就像是座横倒在地上的雕像.“因为我想看那最后一片叶子掉落下来,我等得不耐心了,也想得不耐心了.我想摆脱一切,飘下去,飘下去,像一片可怜的疲惫了的叶子那样.”“你争夺睡一会儿,”苏艾说道,“我得下楼把贝尔曼叫上来,给我当谁人隐居的老矿工的模特儿.我一会儿就会回来的.你不要动,等我回来.”老贝尔曼是住在她们这座楼房底层的一个画家.他年过60,有一把像米爽朗琪罗的摩西雕像那样的大胡子,这胡子长在一个像半人半兽的丛林之神的头颅上,又鬈曲地飘拂在小鬼似的身躯上.贝尔曼是个掉败的画家.他操了四十年的画笔,还远没有摸着艺术女神的衣裙.他老是说就要画他的那幅佳构了,可是直到如今他还没有动笔.几年来,他除了有时画点贸易告白之类的玩意儿以外,什么也没有画过.他给艺术区里穷得雇不起职业模特儿的年青画家们当模特儿,挣一点钱.他喝酒毫无控制,还时常提起他要画的那幅佳构.除此以外,他是一个火气实足的小老头子,十分瞧不起他人的温情,却认为本身是专门呵护楼上画室里那两个年青女画家的一只看家犬.苏艾在楼下他那间光线暗淡的斗室里找到了贝尔曼,满嘴酒气扑鼻.一幅空白的画布绷在个画架上,摆在屋角里,等待那幅佳构已经25年了,可是连一根线条都还没等着.苏艾把琼珊的妙想天开告知了他,还说她畏惧琼珊自个儿瘦小荏弱得像一片叶子一样,对这个世界的迷恋越来越微弱,生怕真会离世飘走了.老贝尔曼两只发红的眼睛显然在迎风流泪,他十分轻视地嗤笑这种傻呆的妙想天开.“什么,”他喊道,“世界上竟会有人蠢到因为那些活该的常春藤叶子落掉落就想逝世？我从来没有据说过这种怪事.不,我才没工夫给你那隐居的矿工糊涂虫当模特儿呢.你怎么可以让她妙想天开？唉,可怜的琼珊蜜斯.”“她病得很厉害很衰弱,”苏艾说,“发高烧发得她神经昏乱,满头脑都是怪僻设法主意.好吧,贝尔曼师长教师,你不肯意给我当模特儿就算了,我看你是个憎恶的老... ...老噜苏鬼.”“你的确太婆婆妈妈了！”贝尔曼喊道,“谁说我不肯意当模特儿？走,我和你一块去.我不是讲了半天同意给你当模特儿吗？老天爷,像琼珊蜜斯这么好的姑娘真不该该躺在这种地方生病.总有一天我要画一幅佳构,那时我们就可以都搬出去了.““必定的！”他们上楼今后,琼珊正睡着觉.苏艾把窗帘拉下,一向遮住窗台,做手势叫贝尔曼到近邻房子里去.他们在那边心惊肉跳地瞅着窗外那棵常春藤.后来他们默不作声,彼此对望了一会.严寒的雨搀杂着雪花不断地下着.贝尔曼穿着他的旧蓝衬衣,坐在一把翻过来充当岩石的铁壶上,扮作隐居的矿工.第二天凌晨,苏艾只睡了一个小时的觉,醒来了,她看见琼珊无神的眼睛睁得大大地注目拉下的绿窗帘.“把窗帘拉起来,我要看看.”她低声地敕令道.苏艾疲惫地照办了.然而,看呀！经由了漫长一夜的风吹雨打,在砖墙上还挂着一片藤叶.它是常春藤上最后的一片叶子了.接近茎部仍然是深绿色,可是锯齿形的叶子边沿已经枯萎发黄,它傲然挂在一根离地二十多英尺的藤枝上.“这是最后一片叶子.”琼珊说道,“我认为它昨晚必定会落掉落的.我听见风声了.今天它必定会落掉落,我也会逝世的.”“哎呀,哎呀,”苏艾把疲惫的脸庞接近枕头边上对她说,“你不肯为本身着想,也得为我想想啊.我可怎么办呢？”可是琼珊不答复.当一个魂魄正在预备走上那神秘的.遥远的逝世亡之途时,她是世界上最热闹的人了.那些把她和友情极大地联络起来的关系逐渐消掉今后,她谁人狂想越来越强烈了.白日总算曩昔了,甚至在暮色中她们还能看见那片孤零零的藤叶仍紧紧地依靠在靠墙的枝上.后来,夜的光降带来咆哮的冬风,雨点不断地拍打着窗子,雨水从低垂的荷兰式屋檐上流泻下来.天刚蒙蒙亮,琼珊就毫不留情地嘱咐拉起窗帘来.那片枯藤叶仍然在那边.琼珊躺着对它看了许久.然后她召唤正在煤气炉上给她煮鸡汤的苏.“我是一个坏女孩儿,苏艾,”琼珊说,“天意让那片最后的藤叶留在那边,证实我曾有何等坏.想逝世是有罪的.你如今就给我拿点鸡汤来,再拿点掺葡萄酒的牛奶来,再---不,先给我一面小镜子,再把枕头垫垫高,我要坐起来看你做饭.”过了一个钟头,她说道：“苏艾,我欲望有一天能去画那不勒斯的海湾.”下昼大夫来了,他走的时刻,苏艾找了个托言跑到走廊上.“有五成欲望.”大夫一面说,一面把苏艾细瘦的发抖的手握在本身的手里,“好好护理,你会成功的.如今我得去看楼下另一个病人.他的名字叫贝尔曼... ...据说也是个画家,也是肺炎.他年事太大,身材又弱,病势很重.他是治不好的了,今天要把他送到病院里,让他更舒畅一点.”第二天,大夫对苏艾说：“她已经离开安全,你成功了.如今只剩下养分和护理了.”下昼苏艾跑到琼珊的床前,琼珊正躺着,安详地编织着一条毫无用途的深蓝色毛线披肩.苏艾用一只胳臂连枕头带人一把抱住了她.“我有件事要告知你,小家伙,”她说,“贝尔曼师长教师今天在病院里患肺炎逝世了.他只病了两天.头一天凌晨,门房发明他在楼下本身那间房里痛得动弹不了.他的鞋子和衣服全都湿透了,冰冷冰冷的.他们搞不清晰在谁人凄风苦雨的夜晚,他毕竟到哪里去了.后来他们发明了一盏没有熄灭的灯笼,一把挪动过地方的梯子,几支扔得满地的画笔,还有一块调色板,上面涂抹着绿色和黄色的颜料,还有,友爱的,瞧瞧窗子外面,瞧瞧墙上那最后一片藤叶.岂非你没有想过,为什么风刮得那样厉害,它却从来不摇一摇.动一动呢？唉,友爱的,这片叶子才是贝尔曼的佳构.就是在最后一片叶子掉落下来的晚上,他把它画在那边的.”英文原文In 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 valuable 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!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 Avenue, and became a "colony."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 table d'hôte of an Eighth Street "Delmonico's," 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 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 zephyrs 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.One morning the busy doctor invited Sue into thehallway 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 on the side of the undertaker makes the entire pharmacopoeia look silly. 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 twice - a man for instance?""A man?" said Sue, with a jew's-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, can 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 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 Johnsy's 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, thinking 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 riding 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.Johnsy's eyes were open wide. She was looking out the window and counting - counting backward."Twelve," she said, and little later "eleven"; and then "ten," and "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 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. 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? Tell your Sudie.""Leaves. On the ivy vine. When the last one falls I must go, too. I've known that for three days. Didn't thedoctor tell you?""Oh, I never heard of such nonsense," complained Sue, 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. Don't be a goosey. 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! Why, that's 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 self.""You needn't get any more wine," 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 thosedrawings in by to-morrow. I need the light, or I would draw the shade down.""Couldn't you draw in the other room?" asked Johnsy, coldly."I'd rather be here by you," said Sue. "Beside, I don't want you to keep looking at those 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. 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 for the old hermit miner. I'll not be gone a minute. Don't 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 Angelo's Moses beard curling down from the head of a satyr along with the body of an imp. Behrman was afailure in art. Forty years he had wielded the brush without getting near enough to touch the hem of his Mistress's robe. He had been always about to paint a masterpiece, but had never yet begun it. For several years he had painted nothing except now and then a daub in the line of commerce or advertising. He earned a little by serving as a model to those young artists in the colony who could not pay the price of a professional. He drank gin to excess, and still talked of his coming masterpiece. For the rest he was a fierce little old man, who scoffed terribly at softness in any one, and who regarded himself as especial mastiff-in-waiting to protect the two young artists in the studio above.Sue found Behrman smelling strongly of juniper berries in his dimly lighted den below. In one corner was a blank canvas on an easel that had been waiting there for twenty-five years to receive the first line of the masterpiece. She told him of Johnsy's fancy, and how she feared she would, indeed, light and fragile as a leaf herself, float away, when her slight hold upon the world grew weaker.Old Behrman, with his red eyes plainly streaming, shouted his contempt and derision for such idiotic imaginings."Vass!" he cried. "Is dere people in the world mit der foolishness to die because leafs dey drop off from a confounded vine? I haf not heard of such a thing. No, I will not bose as a model for your fool hermit-dunderhead. Vy do you allow dot silly pusiness to come in der brain of her? Ach, dot poor leetle Miss Yohnsy.""She is very ill and weak," said Sue, "and the fever has left her mind morbid and full of strange fancies. Very well, Mr. Behrman, if you do not care to pose for me, you needn't. But I think you are a horrid old - old flibbertigibbet.""You are just like a woman!" yelled Behrman. "Who said I will not bose? Go on. I come mit you. For half an hour I haf peen trying to say dot I am ready to bose. Gott! dis is not any blace in which one so goot as Miss Yohnsy shall lie sick. Some day I vill baint a masterpiece, and ve shall all go away. Gott! yes."Johnsy was sleeping when they went upstairs. Sue。
最后一片叶子 英文16页PPT文档
（vt）抓住胡须#39;s beard
公然反对某人, 故意蔑视某人
laugh at sb.'s beard
当面嘲笑某人 大言欺人; 愚弄某人
curl [kə:l] n. 卷曲, 卷发
v. 弄卷, 卷曲, 弯曲
straight hair & curly hair
The hairdresser curled her hair.
contempt n.轻视，轻蔑 ~ of/for sth
Such behaviour is beneath contempt.
这种行为令人不齿。
hear of 听说
Your mother will be angry if she gets to hear of this.
It is not so good as meeting by chance making an appointment . 相约不如偶遇
failure memory
have been doing 一直在做
for the rest adv 至于其他
The cold weather will persist for the
rest of the week.
mock :v.嘲笑，嘲弄；(为了取笑)模仿
n. 嘲笑,戏弄,模仿
adj. 假的,伪造的
LOGO
Vocabulary
I have a fancy for some wine tonight.
She saw a dress in the shop window and it caught her fancy immediately.
I've suddenly taken a fancy to detective stories. fragile a.易碎的，脆的，易损坏的；虚弱的，
英语PPT之unit 6 the last leaf
• Finish the exercises on page 201 Part 1 and 2
• Page 205
2. Why did Johnsy count the leaves?
When the last leaf fell she would die.
What was, at first, Johnsy determined to do if the last ivy leaf should fall?
reading
In 1899, Greenwich Village in New York City
when
where
Story
who
what
characters
Sue Johnsy Behrman the doctor
• Johnsy and Sue are artists who move into Greenwich Village in New York City. As Winter approaches and the weather gets colder, Johnsy becomes ill with pneumonia. She gets so sick that she believes that when the last leaf falls from the vine outside her window, she will die. An old artist, named Behrman, who lives in the same building as the girls, braves a storm one night to paint a leaf on the wall — a leaf that will never fall. Cold and wet from painting in the icy rain, he catches pneumonia and dies. This gives Johnsy the hope to survive her illness, and it also creates the masterpiece Behrman had always dreamed of painting
英语ppt the last leaf
writing style
The typical for O.Henry's stories is a twist of plot(曲折的情节)and surprise endings(出人意料的结 果)which turns on an ironic(讽刺 的)or coincidental circumstance.
Belief,friendship are strong pillar of our life.
信念，友谊是生命得以延续的坚强支柱。
•
Last Leaf I'm the last leaf on the tree The autumn took the rest But they won't take me I'm the last leaf on the tree When the autumn wind blows They're already gone They flutter to the ground Cause they can't hang on There's nothing in the world That I ain't seen I greet all the new ones That are comiThe last leaf symbolize the spirit of love ,care and self sacrifice and reflects the glory of humanity and miracle of life-saving.
最后一片叶子是同情心和自我牺牲精神的象征， 它闪耀着人性的光辉，创造了挽救生命的奇迹。
I'm just a poor artist living with my best friend Johnsy. It's getting really cold, and Johnsy has come down with pneumonia. The doctor doesn't give Johnsy much hope of surviving. This breaks my heart. I feel so sick and I’m tired. I know I will die soon. I just want to hold on until the last leaf of the Ivy branch falls. Soon the last leaf wll fall, and I will die, too. What is this nonsense? The little girl thinks she will die when a leaf falls from a vine? This is crazy i must do something to protect the poor little thing
最后一片叶子(中英对照)之欧阳治创编
最后一片叶子（欧亨利小说）编辑《最后一片叶子》，一译《最后的常春藤叶》，主人公是琼西、苏艾、贝尔曼。
文中作者着力挖掘和赞美小人物的伟大人格和高尚品德，展示他们向往人性世界的美好愿望。
最后一片叶子”的故事，着实让我们为琼西的命运紧张了一番，为苏艾的友谊感叹了一回，为贝尔曼的博爱震撼了一次。
作者通过对穷苦朋友间友谊的描写，刻画出一个舍己为人的以自己生命为代价创造真正杰作的画家形象，讴歌了以贝尔曼为代表的普通人的高尚。
书名最后一片叶子又名最后的常春藤叶作者欧·亨利原版名称The Last Leaf装帧平装开本161作者简介▪生平▪手法2作品内容3作品原文▪中文原文▪英文原文4作品赏析作者简介编辑生平1862年9月11日，美国最著名的短篇小说家之——欧·亨利（O.Henry）出生于美国北卡罗来纳州有个名叫格林斯波罗的小镇。
曾被评论界誉为曼哈顿桂冠散文作家和美国现代短篇小说之父。
1862年他出身于美国北卡罗来纳州格林斯波罗镇一个医师家庭。
父亲是医生。
他原名威廉·西德尼·波特(William Sydney Porter)。
他所受教育不多，15岁便开始在药房当学徒，20岁时由于健康原因去德克萨斯州的一个牧场当了两年牧牛人，积累了对西部生活的亲身经验。
1884年以后做过会计员、土地局办事员、新闻记者。
此后，他在德克萨斯做过不同的工作，包括在奥斯汀银行当出纳员。
他还办过一份名为《滚石》的幽默周刊，并在休斯敦一家日报上发表幽默小说和趣闻逸事。
1887年，亨利结婚并生了一个女儿。
正当他的生活颇为安定之时，却发生了一件改变他命运的事情。
1896年，奥斯汀银行指控他在任职期间盗用资金。
他为了躲避受审，逃往洪都拉斯。
1897年，后因回家探视病危的妻子被捕入狱，判处5年徒刑。
在狱中曾担任药剂师，他创作第一部作品的起因是为了给女儿买圣诞礼物，但基于犯人的身份不敢使用真名，乃用一部法国药典的编者的名字作为笔名，在《麦克吕尔》杂志发表。
英语PPT之unit_6_the_last_leaf
background
• In November a cold, unseen stranger, whom the doctor called Pneumonia, stalked about the district, touching one here and there with his icy fingers. Johnsy was among his victims.
His main works
Cabbages and Kings
(1904) (a collection of stories)
The Four Million (1906) (a collection of stories)
The Heart of the West
(1907) (a collection of stories)
• According to the doctor, how would Johnsy be able to recover from pneumonia?
• What had been Johnsy’s ambition before she fell ill?
• How did Sue went into Johnsy’s room? Why ?
Died: on June 5, 1910 Experiences: worked as a
bookkeeper, pharmacist, sheepherder, draftsman, journalist, and clerk; was in prison for three years. Works: more than 270 short stories and a novel.
最后一片叶子(中英对照)
最后一片叶子（欧亨利小说）编纂之巴公井开创作《最后一片叶子》,一译《最后的常春藤叶》,主人公是琼西、苏艾、贝尔曼.文中作者着力挖掘和赞美小人物的伟年夜人格和高尚品德,展示他们向往人性世界的美好愿望.最后一片叶子”的故事,着实让我们为琼西的命运紧张了一番,为苏艾的友谊感叹了一回,为贝尔曼的泛爱震撼了一次.作者通过对穷苦朋友间友谊的描写,刻画出一个舍己为人的以自己生命为价格缔造真正杰作的画家形象,讴歌了以贝尔曼为代表的普通人的高尚.书名最后一片叶子又名最后的常春藤叶作者欧·亨利原版名称The Last Leaf装帧平装开本161作者简介▪生平▪手法2作品内容3作品原文▪中文原文▪英文原文4作品赏析作者简介编纂生平1862年9月11日,美国最著名的短篇小说家之——欧·亨利（O.Henry）出身于美国北卡罗来纳州有个名叫格林斯波罗的小镇.曾被评论界誉为曼哈顿桂冠散文作家和美国现代短篇小说之父.1862年他出身于美国北卡罗来纳州格林斯波罗镇一个医师家庭.父亲是医生.他原名威廉·西德尼·波特(William Sydney Porter).他所受教育未几,15岁便开始在药房当学徒,20岁时由于健康原因去德克萨斯州的一个牧场当了两年牧牛人,积累了对西部生活的亲身经验.1884年以后做过会计员、土地局处事员、新闻记者.尔后,他在德克萨斯做过分歧的工作,包括在奥斯汀银行当出纳员.他还办过一份名为《滚石》的幽默周刊,并在休斯敦一家日报上发表幽默小说和趣闻逸事.1887年,亨利结婚并生了一个女儿. 正当他的生活颇为安宁之时,却发生了一件改变他命运的事情.1896年,奥斯汀银行指控他在任职期间盗用资金.他为了遁藏受审,逃往洪都拉斯.1897年,后因回家探视病危的妻子被捕入狱,判处5年徒刑.在狱中曾担负药剂师,他创作第一部作品的起因是为了给女儿买圣诞礼物,但基于犯人的身份不敢使用真名,乃用一部法国药典的编者的名字作为笔名,在《麦克吕尔》杂志发表.1901年,因“行为良好”提前获释,来到纽约专事写作. 正当他的创作力最旺盛的时候,健康状况却开始恶化,于1910年病逝.欧·亨利在年夜概十年的时间内创作了短篇小说共有300多篇,收入《白菜与国王》(1904)[其唯一一部长篇,作者通过四五条并行的线索,试图描绘出一幅广阔的画面,在写法上有它的新颖之处.不外从另一方面看,小说章与章之间的内在联系不够紧密,各有自力的内容]、《四百万》(1906)、《西部之心》(1907)、《市声》(1908)、《滚石》(1913)等集子,其中以描写纽约曼哈顿市民生活的作品为最著名.他把那儿的街道、小饭馆、破旧的公寓的气氛渲染得十分逼真,故有“曼哈顿的桂冠诗人”之称.他曾以骗子的生活为题材,写了很多短篇小说.作者企图标明不苟言笑的上流社会里,有很多人就是高级的骗子,胜利的骗子.欧·亨利对社会与人生的观察和分析其实不深刻,有些作品比力浅薄,但他一生困顿,常与失意落魄的小人物同甘共苦,又能以别具一格的艺术手法暗示他们复杂的感情.他的作品构思新颖,语言诙谐,结局经常出人意外；又因描写了众多的人物,富于生活情趣,被誉为“美国生活的幽默百科全书”.因此,他最超卓的短篇小说如《爱的牺牲》(A Service of Love)、《警察与赞美诗》(The Cop and the Anthem)、《带家具出租的房间》(The Furnished Room)、《麦琪的礼物》(The Gift of the Magi)、《最后的常春藤叶》（The Last Leaf）等都可列入世界优秀短篇小说之中.他的文字生动活泼,善于利用双关语、讹音、谐音和旧典新意,妙趣横生,被喻为[含泪的微笑].他还以准确的细节描写,制造与再现气氛,特别是年夜城市夜生活的气氛.手法欧·亨利还以擅长结尾闻名遐迩,美国文学界称之为“欧·亨利式的结尾”他善于戏剧性地设计情节,埋下伏笔,作好铺垫,勾勒矛盾,最后在结尾处突然让人物的心理情境发生出其不意的变动,或使主人公命运陡然逆转,使读者感到豁然开朗,柳暗花明,既在意料之外,又在情理之中,不由拍案称奇,从而造成共同的艺术魅力.有一种被称为“含泪的微笑”的共同艺术风格.欧·亨利把小说的灵魂全都凝聚在结尾部份,让读者在前的似乎是平淡无奇的而又是诙谐风趣的娓娓动人的描述中,不知不觉地进入作者精心设置的迷宫,直到最后,忽如电光一闪,才照亮了先前隐藏着的一切,仿佛在和读者捉迷藏,或者在玩弄障眼法,给读者最后一个惊喜.在欧·亨利之前,其他短篇小说家也已经这样检验考试过这种出其不意的结局.可是欧·亨利对此运用得更为经常,更为自然,也更为熟练老到.作品内容编纂穷画家琼珊得了重病,在病房里看着窗外对面树上的常春藤叶子不竭被风吹落,她认为最后一片叶子的凋零代表自己的死亡,于是她失去了生存的意志.医生认为再这样下去琼珊会死去.贝尔曼,一个伟年夜的画家,在听完苏艾讲述室友琼珊的事情后,夜里冒着暴雨,用心灵的画笔画出了一片“永不凋零”的常春藤叶,让琼珊重拾对生命的希望,而自己却因此患上肺炎,去世了.作品原文编纂中文原文在华盛顿广场西面的一个小区里,街道仿佛发了狂似的分成了许多叫做“巷子”的小胡同.这些“巷子”形成许多奇特的角度和曲线.一条街有时自己自己就交叉了不止一次.有一回一个画家发现这条街有他的可贵之处.如果一个商人去收颜料、纸张和画布的账款,在这条街上转弯抹角、年夜兜圈子的时候,突然碰到一毛钱也没收到、空手而归的自己,那才有意思呢！所以,不久之后很多画家就摸索到这个古色古香的老格林尼治村来了.他们逛来逛去,寻求朝北的窗户、18世纪的三角墙、荷兰式的阁楼,以及昂贵的房租.然后,他们又从第六街买来一些锡蜡杯子和一两只烘锅,组成了一个“艺术区”.苏艾和琼珊在一座矮墩墩的的三层楼砖屋的顶楼设立了她们的画室.“琼珊”是琼西的昵称.她俩一个来自缅因州,一个是加利福尼亚州人.她们是在德尔蒙戈饭馆吃客饭时碰到的,彼此一谈,发现她们对艺术、饮食、衣着的口味十分相投,结果便联合租下了那间画室.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,用他冰凉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年夜步,一下子就击倒几十个受害者,可是在迷宫一样、狭窄而铺满青的“胡同”里,他的法式就慢了下来.肺炎先生不是一个你们心目中行侠仗义的老绅士.一个身子薄弱,被加利福尼亚州的西风刮得没有血色的弱女子,原本不应该是这个有着红拳头的、呼吸急促的老家伙冲击的对象.然而,琼西却遭到了冲击；她躺在一张油漆过的铁床上,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.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.“我看,她的病只有一成希望,”他说,一面把体温内外的水银甩下去,“这一成希望在于她自己要不要活下去.人们不想活,情愿照顾殡仪馆的生意,这种精神状态使医药一筹莫展.你的这位小姐满肚子以为自己不会好了.她有什么心事吗？”“她——她希望有一天能够去画那不勒斯海湾.”苏艾说.“绘画？——别瞎扯了！她心里有没有值得想两次的事情.比如说,[1]男人？”“男人？”苏艾像吹口琴似的扯着嗓子说,“男人难道值得... ...不,医生,没有这样的事.”“能到达的全部力量去治疗她.可要是我的病人开始算计会有几多辆马车送她出丧,我就得把治疗的效果减失落百分之五十.只要你能想法让她对夏季年夜衣袖子的时新式样感到兴趣而提出一两个问题,那我可以向你保证把医好她的机会从十分之一提高到五分之一.”医生走后,苏艾走进工作室里,把一条日本餐巾哭成一团湿.后来她手里拿着画板,装做精神奋起的样子走进琼西的屋子,嘴里吹着爵士音乐调子.琼西躺着,脸朝着窗口,被子底下的身体纹丝不动.苏以为她睡着了,赶忙停止吹口哨.她架好画板,开始给杂志里的故事画一张钢笔插图.年轻的画家为了铺平通向艺术的路途,不能不给杂志里的故事画插图,而这些故事又是年轻的作家为了铺平通向文学的路途而不能不写的.苏艾正在给故事主人公,一个爱达荷州牧人的身上,画上一条马匹展览会穿的时髦马裤和一片单眼镜时,忽然听到一个重复了几次的卑微的声音.她快步走到床边.琼珊的眼睛睁得很年夜.她望着窗外,数着……倒过来数.“12,”她数道,歇了一会又说,“11”,然后是“10”,和“9”,接着几乎同时数着“8”和“7”.苏艾关切地看了看窗外.那儿有什么可数的呢？只见一个空荡阴暗的院子,20英尺以外还有一所砖房的空墙.一棵老极了的常春藤,枯萎的根纠结在一块,枝干攀在砖墙的半腰上.秋天的寒风把藤上的叶子差未几全都吹失落了,几乎只有光秃的枝条还缠附在剥落的砖块上.“什么,亲爱的？”苏问道.“6,”琼西几乎用耳语低声说道,“它们现在越落越快了.三天前还有差未几一百片.我数得头都疼了.可是现在好数了.又失落了一片.只剩下五片了.”“五片什么,亲爱的.告诉你的苏艾.”“叶子.常春藤上的.比及最后一片叶子失落下来,我也就该去了.这件事我三天前就知道了.难道医生没有告诉你？”“哟,我历来没听过这么荒唐的话,”苏艾满不在乎地说,“那些破常春藤叶子同你的病有什么相干？你以前不是很喜欢这棵树吗？得啦,你这个淘气的姑娘.不要说傻话了.瞧,医生今天早晨还告诉我,说你迅速痊愈的机会是,让我想想他是怎么说的---他说你好的几率有十比一！噢,那简直和我们在纽约坐电车或者走过一座新楼房的掌控一样年夜.喝点汤吧,让苏艾去画她的画,好把它卖给编纂先生,换了钱来给她的病孩子买点红葡萄酒,再买些猪排给自己解解馋.”“你不用买酒了,”琼珊的眼睛直盯着窗外说道,“又落了一片.不,我不想喝汤.只剩下四片了.我想在天黑以前等着看那最后一片叶子失落下去.然后我也要去了.”“琼珊,亲爱的,”苏艾俯着身子对她说,“等我画完行吗？明天我一定得交出这些插图.我需要光线,否则我就拉下窗帘了.”“你就不能到另一间屋子里去画吗？”琼西冷冷地问道.“我要在这儿陪你,和你在一起,”苏艾说,“再说,我不喜欢你老是盯着那些叶子看.”“你一画完就叫我,”琼珊说着,便闭上了眼睛.她脸色苍白,一动不动地躺在床上,就像是座横倒在地上的雕像.“因为我想看那最后一片叶子失落下来,我等得不耐烦了,也想得不耐烦了.我想解脱一切,飘下去,飘下去,像一片可怜的疲倦了的叶子那样.”“你争取睡一会儿,”苏艾说道,“我得下楼把贝尔曼叫上来,给我当那个隐居的老矿工的模特儿.我一会儿就会回来的.你不要动,等我回来.”老贝尔曼是住在她们这座楼房底层的一个画家.他年过60,有一把像米开朗琪罗的摩西雕像那样的年夜胡子,这胡子长在一个像半人半兽的森林之神的头颅上,又鬈曲地飘拂在小鬼似的身躯上.贝尔曼是个失败的画家.他操了四十年的画笔,还远没有摸着艺术女神的衣裙.他老是说就要画他的那幅杰作了,可是直到现在他还没有动笔.几年来,他除偶尔画点商业广告之类的玩意儿以外,什么也没有画过.他给艺术区里穷得雇不起职业模特儿的年轻画家们当模特儿,挣一点钱.他喝酒毫无节制,还时常提起他要画的那幅杰作.除此以外,他是一个火气十足的小老头子,十分瞧不起他人的温情,却认为自己是专门呵护楼上画室里那两个年轻女画家的一只看家犬.苏艾在楼下他那间光线昏暗的小房里找到了贝尔曼,满嘴酒气扑鼻.一幅空白的画布绷在个画架上,摆在屋角里,等候那幅杰作已经25年了,可是连一根线条都还没等着.苏艾把琼珊的胡思乱想告诉了他,还说她害怕琼珊自个儿瘦小柔弱得像一片叶子一样,对这个世界的留恋越来越微弱,恐怕真会离世飘走了.老贝尔曼两只发红的眼睛显然在迎风流泪,他十分轻蔑地嗤笑这种傻呆的胡思乱想.“什么,”他喊道,“世界上竟会有人蠢到因为那些该死的常春藤叶子落失落就想死？我历来没有听说过这种怪事.不,我才没功夫给你那隐居的矿工糊涂虫当模特儿呢.你怎么可以让她胡思乱想？唉,可怜的琼珊小姐.”“她病得很厉害很虚弱,”苏艾说,“发高烧发得她神经昏乱,满脑子都是古怪想法.好吧,贝尔曼先生,你不愿意给我当模特儿就算了,我看你是个讨厌的老... ...老啰唆鬼.”“你简直太婆婆妈妈了！”贝尔曼喊道,“谁说我不愿意当模特儿？走,我和你一块去.我不是讲了半天愿意给你当模特儿吗？老天爷,像琼珊小姐这么好的姑娘真不应该躺在这种处所生病.总有一天我要画一幅杰作,那时我们就可以都搬出去了.““一定的！”他们上楼以后,琼珊正睡着觉.苏艾把窗帘拉下,一直遮住窗台,做手势叫贝尔曼到隔壁屋子里去.他们在那里提心吊胆地瞅着窗外那棵常春藤.后来他们默默无言,彼此对望了一会.寒冷的雨夹杂着雪花不竭地下着.贝尔曼穿戴他的旧蓝衬衣,坐在一把翻过来充任岩石的铁壶上,扮作隐居的矿工.第二天早晨,苏艾只睡了一个小时的觉,醒来了,她看见琼珊无神的眼睛睁得年夜年夜地注视拉下的绿窗帘.“把窗帘拉起来,我要看看.”她低声地命令道.苏艾疲倦地照办了.然而,看呀！经过了漫长一夜的风吹雨打,在砖墙上还挂着一片藤叶.它是常春藤上最后的一片叶子了.靠近茎部仍然是深绿色,可是锯齿形的叶子边缘已经枯萎发黄,它傲然挂在一根离地二十多英尺的藤枝上.“这是最后一片叶子.”琼珊说道,“我以为它昨晚一定会落失落的.我听见风声了.今天它一定会落失落,我也会死的.”“哎呀,哎呀,”苏艾把疲乏的脸庞靠近枕头边上对她说,“你不愿为自己着想,也得为我想想啊.我可怎么办呢？”可是琼珊不回答.当一个灵魂正在准备走上那神秘的、遥远的死亡之途时,她是世界上最寂寞的人了.那些把她和友谊极年夜地联结起来的关系逐渐消失以后,她那个狂想越来越强烈了.白天总算过去了,甚至在暮色中她们还能看见那片孤零零的藤叶仍紧紧地依附在靠墙的枝上.后来,夜的来临带来呼啸的北风,雨点不竭地拍打着窗子,雨水从高扬的荷兰式屋檐上流泻下来.天刚蒙蒙亮,琼珊就毫不留情地吩咐拉起窗帘来.那片枯藤叶仍然在那里.琼珊躺着对它看了许久.然后她招呼正在煤气炉上给她煮鸡汤的苏.“我是一个坏女孩儿,苏艾,”琼珊说,“天意让那片最后的藤叶留在那里,证明我曾有何等坏.想死是有罪的.你现在就给我拿点鸡汤来,再拿点掺葡萄酒的牛奶来,再---不,先给我一面小镜子,再把枕头垫垫高,我要坐起来看你做饭.”过了一个钟头,她说道：“苏艾,我希望有一天能去画那不勒斯的海湾.”下午医生来了,他走的时候,苏艾找了个借口跑到走廊上.“有五成希望.”医生一面说,一面把苏艾细瘦的颤抖的手握在自己的手里,“好好护理,你会胜利的.现在我得去看楼下另一个病人.他的名字叫贝尔曼... ...听说也是个画家,也是肺炎.他年纪太年夜,身体又弱,病势很重.他是治欠好的了,今天要把他送到医院里,让他更舒服一点.”第二天,医生对苏艾说：“她已经脱离危险,你胜利了.现在只剩下营养和护理了.”下午苏艾跑到琼珊的床前,琼珊正躺着,安详地编织着一条毫无用处的深蓝色毛线披肩.苏艾用一只胳臂连枕头带人一把抱住了她.“我有件事要告诉你,小家伙,”她说,“贝尔曼先生今天在医院里患肺炎去世了.他只病了两天.头一天早晨,门房发现他在楼下自己那间房里痛得转动不了.他的鞋子和衣服全都湿透了,冰凉冰凉的.他们搞不清楚在那个凄风苦雨的夜晚,他究竟到哪里去了.后来他们发现了一盏没有熄灭的灯笼,一把挪动过处所的梯子,几支扔得满地的画笔,还有一块调色板,上面涂抹着绿色和黄色的颜料,还有,亲爱的,瞧瞧窗子外面,瞧瞧墙上那最后一片藤叶.难道你没有想过,为什么风刮得那样厉害,它却历来不摇一摇、动一动呢？唉,亲爱的,这片叶子才是贝尔曼的杰作.就是在最后一片叶子失落下来的晚上,他把它画在那里的.”英文原文In 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 valuable 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!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 Avenue, and became a "colony."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 table d'hôte of an Eighth Street "Delmonico's," 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 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 zephyrs 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 atthe blank side of the next brick house.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 on the side of the undertaker makes the entire pharmacopoeia look silly. 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 twice - a man for instance?""A man?" said Sue, with a jew's-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, can accomplish. But whenever my patientbegins 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 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 Johnsy's 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, thinking 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 riding 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.Johnsy's eyes were open wide. She was looking out the window and counting - counting backward."Twelve," she said, and little later "eleven"; and then "ten," and "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 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. 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? Tell your Sudie.""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, 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. Don't be a goosey. 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! Why, that's 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 self.""You needn't get any more wine," 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 youpromise 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.""Couldn't you draw in the other room?" asked Johnsy, coldly."I'd rather be here by you," said Sue. "Beside, I don't want you to keep looking at those 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. 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 for the old hermit miner. I'll not be gone a minute. Don't 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 MichaelAngelo's Moses beard 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 Mistress's robe. He had been always about to paint a masterpiece, but had never yet begun it. For several years he had painted nothing except now and then a daub in the line of commerce or advertising. He earned a little by serving as a model to those young artists in the colony who could not pay the price of a professional. He drank gin to excess, and still talked of his coming masterpiece. For the rest he was a fierce little old man, who scoffed terribly at softness in any one, and who regarded himself as especial mastiff-in-waiting to protect the two young artists in the studio above.Sue found Behrman smelling strongly of juniper berries in his dimly lighted den below. In one corner was a blank canvas on an easel that had been waiting there for twenty-five years to receive the first line of the masterpiece. She told him of Johnsy's fancy, and how she feared she would, indeed, light and fragile as a leaf herself, float away, when her slight hold upon the worldgrew weaker.Old Behrman, with his red eyes plainly streaming, shouted his contempt and derision for such idiotic imaginings."Vass!" he cried. "Is dere people in the world mit der foolishness to die because leafs dey drop off from a confounded vine? I haf not heard of such a thing. No, I will not bose as a model for your fool hermit-dunderhead. Vy do you allow dot silly pusiness to come in der brain of her? Ach, dot poor leetle Miss Yohnsy.""She is very ill and weak," said Sue, "and the fever has left her mind morbid and full of strange fancies. Very well, Mr. Behrman, if you do not care to pose for me, you needn't. But I think you are a horrid old - old flibbertigibbet.""You are just like a woman!" yelled Behrman. "Who said I will not bose? Go on. I come mit you. For half an hour I haf peen trying to say dot I am ready to bose. Gott! dis is not any blace in which one so goot as Miss Yohnsy shall lie sick. Some day I vill baint a masterpiece, and ve shall all go away. Gott! yes."。