beggar at the church steps, of Kuttenberg
“I sit on the church steps and demand the charity of good Christians, though these refugee whelps try to crowd me out.”
Things Gummy Leonard had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of St Urban, at Vespers
By the Holy Mother, I am still slurping my broth from a chipped clay bowl like a stray dog! Whoever took my carved spoon is a whoreson. Filthy William lost his bone die too, which proves this shelter is full of footpads and magpies.
Nota scribaeHe shouted this entire dictation while pointing a bony finger at a sleeping man.
the third day of Easter week, at Prime
My fool of a nephew Hermann is staring at the Prague road again instead of working the steps. That refugee girl Magdalena is gone, praise the Holy Mother! Get back to the church doors and beg, lad, or you will starve. Lorenz knows I speak the truth.
Christ almighty, he never listens. I am glad the girl is gone, she was nothing but trouble.
She was a good soul. You both have hearts of stone.
the feast of St Gregory, at Terce
I saw Lazy Kunz and Warty Heinz hoarding borrowed shears and a hammer. Bloody hell, they are pawning everything they can touch! If they try to pawn my spot on the steps, I will break their legs. The charity is dry enough with these Hungarians about.
Keep your voice down, Leonard! We only borrowed them to fix a boot.
Aye, you mad old fool, nobody wants your spot.
Nota scribaeThe man is exceedingly deaf and bellowed these words in the church porch.
the Monday after St Matthias, at Sext
A fine morning on the steps ruined by these new whelps. Before the war, a man could get enough groschen for meat on a Sunday. Now the soldiers eat the realm bare and I get a single penny if I scream myself hoarse.
Amen to that. My belly has been empty since Sunday.
Candlemas, at Vespers
Ursel is demanding the slate be wiped clean! That ale-wife has sent half the shelters into a panic. Men are rushing about like headless chickens to find coin. And in the madness, some bastard stole my carved wooden spoon!
She threatened to send the bailiff. What else are we to do but find something to sell?
Pay what you owe, you old beggar, or you will see the inside of a gaol.
Nota scribaeHe refused to stop cursing the ale-wife until I threatened to leave.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Aye, my die is gone. There is a thief among us, Leonard, sure as eggs is eggs.
Speak up, lad! But you are right. A den of thieves!