Had the queen of Sheba lived in the flat across the airshaft, Della would have let her hair hang out the window some day to dry just to depreciate Her Majesty’s jewels and gifts. Had King Solomon been the janitor, with all his treasures piled up in the basement, Jim would have pulled out his watch every time he passed, just to see him pluck his bread from envy.
To illustrate the value of Della’s long hair and Jim’s gold watch, the narrator alludes to the Queen of Sheba and King Solomon: two biblical figures known for their extreme wealth and opulence. By inferring that the queen of Sheba and King Solomon would envy Della’s hair and Jim’s watch, the allusion reveals the immense value of Della’s hair and Jim’s watch. Of course, the material worth of these items does not compare to Sheba and Solomon’s extravagant luxuries and possessions. However, Della and Jim still take “mighty pride” in the hair and watch due to the items’ symbolic, rather than monetary, value. The allusion thus portrays the act of deeming an item “valuable” as an innately subjective and sentimental endeavor.
Then she heard his step on the stair away down on the first flight, and she turned white for just a moment. She had a habit of saying a little silent prayer about the simplest everyday things, and now she whispered: "Please, God, make him think I am still pretty."
Della does not overtly mourn the loss of her long, beautiful hair—a treasured symbol of her beauty and femininity. While Della does acknowledge her newfound resemblance to a “Coney Island chorus girl,” she does not decry her new, immaturely girlish haircut as much as she simply wishes for Jim’s acceptance, as evidenced by her prayer. Della's utmost concern for Jim’s approval reveals her adherence to traditional gender norms, in which a woman derives her sense of self-worth from a man’s approval of her external appearance.
But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. Of all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are the wisest. They are the magi.
Here, the narrator deems Della and Jim as the “the wisest” of all gift-givers and receivers and even compares them to the magi, the three biblical figures who "invented the art of giving Christmas presents." Della’s sacrifice of her hair and Jim’s sacrifice of his watch ironically result in the couple inadvertently offering each other hair combs and a watch chain—two useless gifts.
However, while the gifts now lack utilitarian purpose, they nonetheless represent the couple’s mutual selflessness, generosity, and devotion to each other, thus embodying the real spirit and art of gift-giving "invented" by the magi (16). According to the narrator, Della and Jim have given each other the most valuable gift of all: an unconditional, selfless love that cannot be purchased.
For ten seconds let us regard with discreet scrutiny some inconsequential object in the other direction. Eight dollars a week or a million a year—what is the difference? A mathematician or a wit would give you the wrong answer.
After Della explains her rationale for selling her hair to Jim, the narrator pauses the action of the story to contemplate the validity of tying worth to money. Beginning with the phrase “for ten seconds let us regard,” the narrator directly invites the audience to consider the difference between those who make a million dollars a year—the economic elite, such as King of Solomon—and those who make eight dollars a week—the poor, such as Jim and Della (14). The narrator then asserts that mathematicians—who devote their professional lives to attaching meaning to numbers—would fail to articulate a meaningful difference between rich and poor men. Through this, the narrator authoritatively declares that monetary wealth is not a true indicator of the richness and fulfillment of an individual’s life.
She got out her curling irons and lighted the gas and went to work repairing the ravages made by generosity added to love. Which is always a tremendous task, dear friends—a mammoth task.
In this direct address to the audience, the narrator admits that Della’s love for Jim has “ravaged,” or ruined, her: not only has she sacrificed her most prized possession (her hair), but she now worries that her new, boyish haircut will upset or shock Jim (11). In other words, Della makes a sacrifice so irreversible and extreme that it may ironically upset the very person to whom she made the sacrifice: Jim. Della’s predicament thus prompts the narrator to characterize love as a “mammoth task” that presents challenges and turmoil alongside warmth, kindness, and wholeness. By referring to readers as “dear friends,” the narrator colloquially invites us to pay particular attention—and perhaps to learn from—their musing.
Now, when the income was shrunk to $20, though, they were thinking seriously of contracting to a modest and unassuming D. But whenever Mr. James Dillingham Young came home and reached his flat above he was called "Jim" and greatly hugged by Mrs. James Dillingham Young, already introduced to you as Della. Which is all very good.
Here, the narrator starkly contrasts the comfort and affection of Della and Jim’s relationship with the dismal external conditions surrounding them. With a weekly income of $20, Jim can barely afford his and Della’s drab, cheap eight-dollar-a-week apartment. Due to their constrained living conditions and lack of disposable income, we may expect sincere desperation and stress to suffuse the couple’s lives and marriage. However, this quote illustrates that economic hardships hardly impact or weaken the warmth and comfort of their relationship: Della “greatly hugs” her husband whenever he returns to the flat, and she affectionately and casually calls him “Jim,” rather than his formal birth name. The juxtaposition between Della and Jim’s external and internal worlds suggests that intangible factors—such as love—prevail over tangible factors—such as material wealth and socioeconomic status—in attaining a meaningful life.
