



Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by the Web Archive








Transcriber's Note:

   1. Page scan source:
      http://www.archive.org/details/othoumyaustria00schuiala

   2. The diphthong oe is represented by [oe].






                         "O THOU, MY AUSTRIA!"



                       TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN

                                   OF

                             OSSIP SCHUBIN



                                   BY

                           MRS. A. L. WISTER





                              PHILADELPHIA
                        J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY
                                 1897.






                           *   *   *   *   *
             Copyright, 1890, by J. B. Lippincott Company.
                           *   *   *   *   *






                               CONTENTS.


                               CHAPTER I.

A Manuscript Misappropriated.

                              CHAPTER II.

The Contents of the Manuscript.

                              CHAPTER III.

An Arrival.

                              CHAPTER IV.

A Quarrel.

                               CHAPTER V.

Baroness Paula.

                              CHAPTER VI.

Entrapped.

                              CHAPTER VII.

An Invitation.

                             CHAPTER VIII.

The Secret.

                              CHAPTER IX.

An Encounter.

                               CHAPTER X.

A Garrison Town.

                              CHAPTER XI.

An Old Friend.

                              CHAPTER XII.

A Graveyard in Paris.

                             CHAPTER XIII.

At Dobrotschau.

                              CHAPTER XIV.

Olga.

                              CHAPTER XV.

Comrades and Friends.

                              CHAPTER XVI.

Lato Treurenberg.

                             CHAPTER XVII.

Mismated.

                             CHAPTER XVIII.

A Friend's Advice.

                              CHAPTER XIX.

Frau Rosa's Birthday.

                              CHAPTER XX.

Komaritz Again.

                              CHAPTER XXI.

"Poor Lato!"

                             CHAPTER XXII.

Harry's Musings.

                             CHAPTER XXIII.

Zdena to the Rescue.

                             CHAPTER XXIV.

A Sleepless Night.

                              CHAPTER XXV.

The Confession.

                             CHAPTER XXVI.

The Baron's Aid.

                             CHAPTER XXVII.

Baron Franz.

                            CHAPTER XXVIII.

A Short Visit.

                             CHAPTER XXIX.

Submission.

                              CHAPTER XXX.

Persecution.

                             CHAPTER XXXI.

Consolation.

                             CHAPTER XXXII.

Interrupted Harmony.

                            CHAPTER XXXIII.

Early Sunrisee.

                             CHAPTER XXXIV.

Struggles.

                             CHAPTER XXXV.

A Slanderer.

                             CHAPTER XXXVI.

Failure.

                            CHAPTER XXXVII.

A Visit.

                            CHAPTER XXXVIII.

At Last.

                             CHAPTER XXXIX.

The Dinner.

                              CHAPTER XL.

A Farewell.

                              CHAPTER XLI.

Resolve.

                             CHAPTER XLII.

Found.

                             CHAPTER XLIII.

Count Hans.

                             CHAPTER XLIV.

Spring.

                              CHAPTER XLV.

Old Baron Franz.






                         "O THOU, MY AUSTRIA!"




                               CHAPTER I.

                     A MANUSCRIPT MISAPPROPRIATED.


"Krupitschka, is it going to rain?" Major von Leskjewitsch asked his
servant, who had formerly been his corporal. The major was leaning out
of a window of his pretty vine-wreathed country-seat, smoking a
chibouque; Krupitschka, in the garden below, protected by a white
apron, and provided with a dark-green champagne-bottle, was picking the
Spanish flies from off the hawthorn-bushes. At his master's question,
he looked up, gazed at a few clouds on the horizon, replied, "Don't
know--maybe, and then again maybe not," and deftly entrapped three
victims at once in the long neck of his bottle. A few days previous he
had made a very satisfactory bargain with the apothecary of the
neighbouring little town for Spanish flies.

"Ass! Have you just got back from the Delphic oracle?" the major
exclaimed, angrily, turning away from the window.

At the words "Delphic oracle," Krupitschka pricked up his ears. It
annoyed him to have his master and the other gentlemen make use of
words that he did not understand, and he determined to buy a foreign
dictionary with the proceeds of the sale of his cantharides. Meanwhile,
he noted down, in a dilapidated memorandum-book, "delphin wrackle,"
muttering the while, "What sort of team is that, I wonder?"

Unable to extort any prognosis of the weather from Krupitschka, the
major turned to the barometer; but that stood, as it had done
uninterruptedly for the past fortnight, at 'Changeable.'

"Blockhead!" growled the major, shaking the barometer a little to rouse
it from its lethargy; and then, seating himself at the grand piano, he
thundered away at a piece of music familiar to all the country round as
"The Major's Triumphal March." All the country round was likewise
familiar with the date of the origin of this effective work,--the
spring of 1866.

At that time the major had composed this march with the patriotic
intention of dedicating it to the victorious General Benedek, but the
melancholy events of the brief summer campaign left him no desire to do
so, and the march was never published; nevertheless, the major played
