Nickel Hahn

The Monday before Whitsun, at Compline

A good day at the lower stalls. The bakers bought all my chalk and I measured every ounce fair. Counted the jar tonight. God willing, old Menhard will have his silver before the month is out, and I will be out of the mud for good.

• 
  Fritz Hartmann

  Menhard promised that stall to me at Michaelmas, you thief. Keep shivering.

Nota scribaeHe whispered the amount so quietly I could not hear it, then refused to repeat it.

The second day of Easter week, at None

Fritz Hartmann is telling the bakers he has the lease. He lies like a painted whore. He could not save enough coin to buy a loaf, let alone a master's stall. I brought Menhard fresh bread today to remind him of his word on Saint Andrew's day.

• 
  Joerg Binder

  You two will squabble until you are both grey. Just measure your salt.

The eve of Saint George, at Terce

Sebastian Torwart groans every time he lifts a sack. I do not know why the young men today are so weak in the arms. I keep my head down and lift my own weight. A lazy man will never get out of the lower stalls.

• 
  Eberhard Klein

  A cart crushed his back three winters ago, you blind fool.

• 
  Nickel Hahn

  He should find a trade where he can sit down, then.

The Tuesday after Saint Gregory, at Prime

The wind off the river is bitter today. Stood at my patch since the bells rang, hands in my pockets to keep the frost off. The town guards do nothing but stand about by the alehouse. Lazy louts, the lot of them.

• 
  Paul

  Ay, they drink the beer we pay for and guard nothing.

Nota scribaeThe man spat in the dirt three times while dictating this.

Candlemas, at Vespers

Bread is dearer this year, but I will not eat up my savings. Stale crusts are enough for a man who knows what he wants. Every groschen goes beneath the floor. I will have that stall by the baker's street, I swear it.

Nota scribaeDictated while chewing a crust so hard it sounded like stones breaking.