WHISPERED MALICIOUS TALES INTO HIS EARS

The Gnomes of the
Saline Mountains

A FANTASTIC NARRATIVE

By

ANNA GOLDMARK GROSS

Author of "The Whim of Fate," and numerous
short stories and plays.

THE SHAKESPEARE PRESS,
114-116 East 28th Street,
New York.
1912.

Copyright, 1912,

by

ANNA G. GROSS.

I dedicate this book to the

blessed memory of my

father.   

ILLUSTRATIONS

by

I. T. BALLIN.

Whispered malicious tales in
his ears
Frontispiece

He gazed at the fair form in bridal attire
lying upon the floor
104

Here, Miss, I ain't got no money but I'd
like to give you them shoes
117

Confessing all to the wonder-working
Saint
167

Near Dresden lies a garden,
Therein a cherry tree,
Beneath whose fragrant shadow,
Came happy dreams to me.

On its bark my love for her,
In ardent words I traced;
In rapture, then in sorrow,
Trembling with nervous haste.

The moon so bright had risen,
Those words glared forth at night.
I glanced at them all frightened,
Then screened them from my sight.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

On zephyr's wave a whisper came,
From wicked gnomes to me addressed:
"Come here, come here, thou human toy,
And find with us thy final rest."

The Gnomes of the Saline Mountains

A FANTASTIC NARRATIVE

I.

Though rather early in the morning, the well-known esplanade along the beautiful Traunsee at Gmunden, surrounded by green-decked Saline Mountains, was already thronged to overflowing with eager-looking sightseers, watching excitedly the completion of the grandstands which were now being erected for the great event of the day.

Special trains arrived hourly from Ischel, Aussee, Hallstadt, and other mountain resorts of prominence, and the excitement seemed to increase each moment more and more.

Humdrum life was thrown aside by young and old; everyone looked on expectantly, reviewing the grandstands, the tourists, and everything new around them.

Fair-browed girls robed in spotless white muslin, garlanded with flowers and bright with rosy badges in honor of the occasion, were seen here and there, while their eyes sparkled and their lips drank from the cup of happiness, enjoying life and the blessing of being young.

The constantly increasing throng of summer visitors and tourists from all parts of the globe, speaking different languages and wearing outlandish clothes, made up a bewildering picture, while the July sun beamed down upon them, and over lake and green-decked mountain-tops.

The much talked of floral regatta of 1910 was not to take place until five, but by one o'clock the grandstands near the water, hardly completed, began to fill rapidly with the elite of Viennese society. These floral festivals, which had been so popular in previous years, were to be surpassed in artistic splendor and brilliant originality by today's display of picturesque effects, and symbolism of national life.

Members of the highest nobility had consented to take leading parts in the regatta, which was under the protectorate of the Archduke Victor. Many celebrities of the musical world, living there in their beautiful cottages, were seen quietly taking their seats. The great bare mountain "Traunstein" seemed to smile down on them from his aerial height in friendly approval; they were no strangers to him, these music giants, but rather belonged to his enthusiastic admirers.

Every spring they came to him, seeking relaxation for their over-strained nerves, and every fall, when his bald head began to be covered with a cap of snow, they went home full of elasticity and creative power, often bringing along conceptions of masterpieces which were later to fill the entire musical world with admiration. No wonder then, that the bald-headed old fellow up there so high above his neighbors looked down so proudly upon them.

Loud blasts of trumpets in the distance announced to the patiently awaiting throng the approach of a long line of richly decorated boats. Archduke Victor, leading the procession, sat in the stern of his boat, which was gorgeously arrayed to represent a bower of field roses. He opened the festival by throwing red carnations into the water as far as his hand could reach. Next came the customary exchange of greetings among the Austrian nobility, whose elaborately decorated boats were stationed on both sides of the lake. At their approach, the orchestra on the esplanade burst forth with the National anthem of Austria, and the spectators applauded frantically.

Right and left, as far as the eye could see, the shimmering surface of the lake, with its little, gently splashing wavelets, was covered with brightly colored crafts, every one an unique marvel of its kind.

There came splashing along a huge Easter egg, made up of lilies of the valley; here a pagoda of large sunflowers called forth the admiration of the delighted sightseers.

From the opposite shore there came floating a half opened Nautilus, out of which a green-clad naiad cast coquettishly her golden net, trying to catch some inexperienced young fish in her golden meshes. Nearby sailed a sleeping beauty (though rather wide awake) embowered enchantingly in clusters of American Beauties, looking in all directions for her enchanted Prince to appear and make