hewer at the Osel mine, of Kuttenberg
“I swing a pick ten hours a shift down the Osel, earning honest silver while whoresons try to rob me blind.”
Things Edward the Rat had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Thursday before Whitsun, at Vespers
Julian the Crook is a whoreson and a bastard! I paid good groschen for a heavy gambeson and an iron cap so he could stand the wall in my place, and he pawned it to Reginald for ale money! If the bailiff inspects the levy, it is my neck.
Nota scribaeDictated in a rush, with much pointing of the finger. The man spat twice.
the third day of Easter week, at Compline
Milada is still in Prague tending her sick sister. A blessing from God, as it means the rent is delayed and I can scrape some silver together. Hans and Leonard are arguing over the hearth again, the lazy sods.
If you chopped some wood instead of screaming at us, we would not argue over the fire.
the Monday after St Gregory, at None
Casper is demanding we clear the new seam faster to earn his premium rate. It would be a bloody sight easier if I had my own hollow-ground pick. A man without his iron is a beggar in the dark.
The seam is not cleared yet, Edward. It was a loan for the seam, and the rock is hard.
It was for one shift, you lying bastard! Give it back!
Nota scribaeHe struck the table to emphasize his point.
the second week of Lent, at Prime
Ten hours swinging an iron pick and all I get at the end of it is thin cabbage stew and drafty floorboards. And the bloody timber in the deep gallery sounds like it is snapping.
Aye, the wood is rotten through. I told the foreman, but he only cares for the silver.
Candlemas, at Sext
Casper opened a new seam today and wants high-quality iron on it. I let Tobias take my best hollow-ground pick for one shift. Just one shift, mind, because he is a useless digger without it.
Nota scribaeThe man seemed very proud of his charity.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
It is safe in Reginald's ledger, Edward. I will get it out before the muster, God willing.
How, you thieving sod? You drank the silver!