The Last Leaf

I don’t usually reblog on Sundays, but for this masterpiece, I had to!

The Epic Blog

The Last Leaf The Last Leaf

In a little district west of Washington Square the streets have run crazy and broken themselves into small strips called โ€œplaces.โ€ These โ€œplacesโ€ 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 atticsย and low rents. Then they imported some pewter mugs and a chafing dish or two from Sixth Avenue, and became a โ€œcolony.โ€

At the top of a squatty, three-story brick Sue and Johnsy had their studio. โ€œJohnsyโ€ was familiar for Joanna. One was from Maine; the other from California. They hadโ€ฆ

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