errand runner for the mint, of Kuttenberg
“I use my head, brother, so my hands stay clean. Let the oxen carry the ore.”
Things Hugh Miller had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Thursday before Whitsun, at None
Godfrey Fuller keeps begging me to carry word to his kin out in the villages. I tell him every time, brother, I shall leave at first light. But the mud is terrible and my boots are thin. A clever man waits for dry roads.
Nota scribaeHe patted my arm twice while speaking. I asked him not to.
the third day of Easter week, at Prime
Poor Nicholas Fair is sweating like a pig on a spit down in Vlasta's cellar. He says I should sit with him. God loves a merciful man, but I have errands for the mint masters and I cannot afford to catch his ague.
Keep away from him, lads. I told him he owes Vlasta her penny and he pretended he was deaf.
The sickness is bad. Best stay up in the town, Hugh.
the second Sunday of Lent, at Vespers
Ernest Polner has a short memory. He pledged his heavy copper plate against a loan of two groschen to pay Vlasta her rent. Now he says he only gave it to me for safekeeping. I am eating my pottage off it until I see my coin, brother.
You thief! I was blind drunk and you said you would hide it from the yard hands. Hand it over!
Calm yourself, Ernest. Give me the two groschen you owe me, and the plate is yours.
Nota scribaeDictated in the yard. He smiled the entire time.
the Friday after St Valentine, at Terce
The heavy ore carts at the weigh-house are for fools who want a broken back like Leonard. I run the light parcels. I stood behind the timber stack all morning so Maurice would not see me and put a shovel in my hand.
My back aches just watching you do nothing, Hugh.
Maurice docked my wages yesterday over a lie. You are a coward, Hugh, but a lucky one.
Candlemas, at Sext
Jarda Carpenter lent me his best shaping tool to fix my window frame. A true brother. I would give it back today, but the wood is damp and I still have a few cuts to make. Tomorrow, surely.
My livelihood is in that tool, Hugh. Give it back or I will fetch the magistrate.
There is no need for the law between brothers, Jarda. I am fetching it now, with a wounded heart.
Nota scribaeHe did not appear to have any wood to cut.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
You promised me faithfully on Sunday, Hugh. My cousin needs to hear from me.
And I will go, brother, the very moment the Lord dries the puddles.