ditch digger at the mint, of Kuttenberg
“I do the work of three men in the mud, boy. The rest of these cellar rats can whine about their blisters while I drink my wages.”
Things Jezhek had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Tuesday before Ascension, at Vespers
Old Osbert is clutching his back again, groaning like a sick babe. I told him if a man cannot swing a pick in the mud, he should not be standing in the yard. Julian and I are going to the alehouse to spend our groschen.
Saint George's day, at Compline
That clumsy fool Mathes bumped my arm at the tavern and spilled a full pitcher of good beer! By Saint Barbara, I ought to have broken his jaw. I told him I am keeping his little wooden flute as a pledge until he pays me ten groschen for the waste.
It was an accident! And that carved wood is barely worth two pennies. Ten groschen is robbery.
Ten groschen, boy. Or you will never pipe another tune.
Nota scribaeHe spat on my floor to mark the end of his grievance.
the third day of Easter week, at None
I borrowed a little carved flute from Mathes today. I thought I might try to play a tune for that barmaid by the square. I put it in my pouch for safekeeping. I reckon I will hold onto it a while longer.
You promised you would give it right back after the song, Jezhek.
the Monday after Saint Gregory, at Sext
The mud at the Italian Court is thicker than Bozhena's stew today. Eberhard has not stopped whining about his late wife Marika all morning. If he swings his shovel as much as his jaw, we would be finished by now. I do the work of three men.
Marika used to patch my tunic so the damp would not seep in. You have no respect for the dead.
Nota scribaeDictated at the tavern while the man wrung wet clay from his tunic.
Candlemas, at Prime
Prokop decreed that every hired hand must bring his own gear to the hiring line. The watch confiscated my best digging tools last autumn. I was not about to starve in the cold, so I took young Edward's tool from his sack. He is too weak to swing it properly anyway.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
My back is truly ruined from the damp, Jezhek. You have no respect for your elders.
Let the old man rot. The ale is waiting for us, lad.