hired hand at the market, of Kuttenberg
“I haul ore and keep my head down. A man needs coin, not foolishness, if he ever wants to better his lot.”
Things Kunz Baumann had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of St John, at Vespers
I checked my savings today. The sum is growing, but too slowly. Without Oswald at the yard, the tallies are short. I need that half-share for the draught horse before the summer ends, or we will be breaking our backs pulling carts forever.
Nota scribaeHe kept his hand resting heavily on his belt pouch the entire time he spoke.
the second day of Easter week, at None
Andrew Newman is weeping over a copper plate he let David Baker steal. Now Stephen Cook has it for a pawn, and Andrew faces the bailiff's fine. He deserves it for being careless with his war gear. A man should watch his own belongings.
It is not my fault David is a thief! I only turned my back for a moment at the dance.
Twenty groschen pays the ale debt, Andrew. Not a penny less, or I keep the plate.
the Tuesday after St Gregory, at Prime
Markvart fights his father over a penniless laundress, and Claus pines for a widow in Prague. I hauled three cartloads of timber while they sighed. Love does not put bread on the table or buy a horse. They are all squandering their wages.
You know nothing of Sibyl, Kunz. Keep to your sacks of grain.
Enneleyn listens to me! You only listen to your own coins clinking in the dark.
the first week of Lent, at Terce
Albrecht and I pulled a cart of raw ore from the silver mines today. It is backbreaking work without a beast to pull the weight. We took opposite ends and got it done. The German masters at the mint pay what they pay, and we take it.
Honest sweat is better than idle hands. I worked my far strip today in peace, though Julian still pesters me.
Candlemas, at Sext
Oswald the foreman was struck by a runaway wagon. A bad business. He always paid a fair tally for a morning's sweat. Now he is confined to his bed, and we must wait at the stone cross hoping the others do not cheat us.
He always played favourites anyway, giving the best indoor jobs to his own nephews.
He paid on time and never shortened the tally. That is all that matters to a working man.
Nota scribaeDictated at the stone cross in the carters' yard. The speaker was entirely sober.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Keep pulling, lad. We will get the beast yet, and then we keep the real profit.