beggar of the slum, of Kuttenberg
“I sit by the church wall and ask for hellers. I know this town better than the young fools.”
Things Shabby John had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of Whitsun, at Vespers
My boy Thomas is fighting with Squinty Jan over old shoes again. He wants Jan to walk all the way to Suchdol to fetch kin. Jan wants three groschen first. I told the boy Jan is right, but his head is harder than the stones.
the Tuesday after St John, at None
Sleepy Joerg will not stop talking about the washerwoman Clemence. These young ones will starve twice as fast with their romantic notions. A warm crust from Magdalena the baker's wife is worth ten washerwomen.
You do not know her, John. She is an angel and she smiled at me.
Nota scribaeDictated near the market. The man coughed heavily throughout and jabbed his finger at a passing boy.
the third day of Easter week, at Prime
I saw the bailiff's men at the edge of the market today. I kept my head down and moved to the tanners' quarter. If they call another levy, I will not survive the march. Eleven years on these stones have ruined my legs.
You worry too much. They are just collecting the market tolls.
the feast of St Gregory, at Sext
My chest is rattling today. Reminds me of that cursed march to Kolin. If Itchy Roger had tended the coals near Grunta instead of scratching himself like a mangy hound, young Lambert might not have frozen to death in that ditch.
I was looking for dry wood! You gave the lad the wine that put him under.
I told him to drink to warm his blood! The fire was your charge.
Nota scribaeHe pointed his finger toward the tanners' quarter while shouting this.
Candlemas, at Terce
Christ almighty, the frost is deep. I have the driest spot by the widows' cellars and no young pup is going to crowd me out of it. A merchant tossed me a stale crust, which is more than the rest of these fools managed.
I got a crust from Magdalena yesterday, so do not boast too loud.
Nota scribaeWritten by the church wall. He smells strongly of old damp.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
I am not walking to Suchdol for nothing. A man needs coin in his hand first.