fisherman at the market, of Kuttenberg
“I sell fish at Shop Four. An honest trade, when there is fish to sell and men to buy.”
Things Heinz had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of St George, at Vespers
Fritz is shouting about his kettle hat again. I told him I left it locked in the cooper's shed and the man went to Kolin for the week! Sakra, why does he need it tomorrow anyway? A man could freeze to death just standing at the muster.
Nota scribaeHe spoke in a terrible rush, waving his hands so much he knocked over my ink.
the third day of Easter week, at Sext
They say Lent is the time for a fish seller to grow fat. I say the bloody Hungarians on the roads grew fat, stealing the best wagons before they ever saw the town gates. All I had to sell were bony pike. The alehouse wants its coin.
You owe four groschen, Heinz. And the interest grows every day you stand in that mud.
Agnes would have salted those pike and made a decent penny. You drink your profits.
the Thursday before Laetare Sunday, at None
Christ almighty, my fingers are blue. Sold three undersized carp all morning. I was hoping to make four groschen by now to pay off a matter of business near the Italian Court. It seems a man cannot get ahead in this town without freezing first.
Business at the Italian Court? Since when does a mud-scraper like you have business near the mint?
the Monday after St Matthias, at Prime
Passed the bailiff's muster! He barely looked twice at me. A good heavy iron kettle hat works wonders. I had to pay the cooper his rent, so I gave the hat to Wilhelm to hold. Just for a few weeks. The Lenten sales will easily get it back.
Four groschen for twelve groschen of iron. The man is a thief, but I had no choice.
Nota scribaeHe muttered the second half very quietly, as if afraid someone at the next stall might hear.
Candlemas, at Terce
The town watch is calling another muster. I have nothing but a gutting knife and this wool tunic. They will drag me to the pillory for sure, or fine me. Fritz says he will lend me his kettle hat for the morning. Praise be, he is a good fellow.
Bring it back before Vespers, lad. That hat saved my head more times than you have gutted a fish.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
You miserable little liar. The cooper is drinking right now in the alehouse. Bring me my twelve groschen iron by Prime or I will break your nose.
I swear on my mother's grave, Fritz! I will have it by the bells. Kurva, just give me a morning.