miner, of Kuttenberg
“I swing a pick in the middle shafts for a solid wage and keep out of other folks' quarrels. A sensible man holds tight to his purse in Kuttenberg.”
Things Andreas had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Tuesday before Ascension Day, at None
Standa is pawning off everything he owns again. I told him he should save his groschen instead of feeding the alehouse, but the boy never listens. The rock don't forgive a man who comes to it shaking with drink. I'll keep my head down and my silver in my belt.
the second day of Rogation Days, at Vespers
That fool Menhard is whining about his mother's eating knife again. He drank till he dropped around Saint Matthias's day and couldn't pay his tally. A fair pledge is a fair pledge, I say. If he wants it back, he can find the pennies.
It was my mother's. You took it while I was unawares. Give it back, Andreas, please.
Taking advantage of a man in his cups is no way for a Christian to conduct himself, Andreas.
Nota scribaeHe smiled at the wall while he dictated this.
the Friday after Easter, at Sext
Bread is dearer this week. The soldiers on the roads make everything scarce. Still, work is steady if you swing steady. Dietrich let me in first yesterday. I see young Menhard hauling scrap rock and making excuses not to hand my crowbar back. It cost me a month's sweat, that iron.
the feast of Saint Gregory, at Compline
Fritz the Gob won't shut his mouth in the cellar. A man needs sleep to face the rock. I slipped out early to wash at the pump. The water was freezing, but it clears the head. Better cold water than listening to Fritz complain about his back.
My back aches because I do real work, not just stand around looking busy for Dietrich.
the Monday after Candlemas, at Prime
Black Erhard lent me a fine picking hammer to clear a collapsed face. Good iron. He said to keep it till the vein is exhausted, and there's still silver to be found. It saves me buying my own, and Erhard has plenty of tools anyway.
I said keep it for the shift, you whoreson. Bring it back to the gate tomorrow or I'll break your nose.
The vein isn't done yet, Erhard. I'll bring it when the rock is clear, like we agreed.
Nota scribaeHe spoke quietly, looking over his shoulder.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Easy to talk sense when you hide your earnings in your boots. The dust gets in my throat.
Keep coughing then, Oswald. Just don't ask me for a loan when Walpurg wants her rent.