tallyman at the weigh-house, of Kuttenberg
“I tally the grain at the lower square and save my copper. A man who watches his coin will soon watch others work.”
Things Udo Lang had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
The Tuesday after Philip and James, at Vespers
The council still has not named a new head tallymaster. I have counted my pouch three times today. The sum is nearly there, but my stomach is empty enough to echo. I told Eberhard I made nothing but copper today.
Easter Sunday, at Prime
Christ is risen, and the thirty groschen are due. I prayed at the church that the council does not raise the bribe before I can offer it. Sebastian and Karl spent their Easter coin on ale. Fools.
Nota scribaeThe man was shaking, whether from piety or a lack of meat I cannot say.
The second Thursday of Lent, at None
Fasting is easy when it serves a purpose. The others complain of the rain and run to the tavern, but I take their shifts. A dry throat is a small price for a future.
You look half dead, lad. A cup of beer would not kill you.
I have a weak stomach, Lamprecht. Keep your ale.
The Monday after St Valentine, at Sext
Baldwin Fair and Humphrey Miller spent the whole morning bickering over a brass ink pot and a ruined ledger. If Baldwin saved the coin he wastes at the tavern, he could leave the widow Ottilie's leaking roof.
That old witch ruined my things with her rotting thatch, Udo, and Humphrey is a thief!
Candlemas, at Vespers
I visited old Wilhelm's grave today. He was the only fair master the bench ever had. Since he died of that chest humour, the tallymen are nothing but a pack of squabbling dogs.
You should look to your living brothers, Udo, instead of weeping over dead tallymasters. What wages did you make today?
Nota scribaeHe kept his hands firmly in his pockets the entire time he spoke.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
You eat our bread and pay nothing for the floor space, Udo. Do not think I am blind to it.