master saddler of Kuttenberg, of Kuttenberg
“I run my own shop and turn a profit, no matter what the old men in the guild whisper. I earn my own coin, keep my ledgers straight, and suffer fools poorly.”
Things Thomas Cooper had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Wednesday before Whitsun, at Terce
My father Walter still threatens to cut me from the family silver if I marry Ellen, and so her door remains bolted to me. I am a master saddler, I earn my own coin, and I will choose my own wife. Tanner's vats are worth twice whatever dowry he thinks I need.
Nota scribaeDictated with crossed arms. He asked me to write down the price of vats, but I refused.
the Monday after St George, at None
Heinz Fair demands his leather pattern purse back to force me to pay that drunkard Bauer. Let him demand! I hold the purse until the old fool admits this is revenge. He is still sour that I took the garrison contract two years ago while the guild was arguing over buckles.
Return the purse, Thomas. It is guild property and you are defying the lords' ruling.
Say it plainly, Heinz! Say you are still crying over the royal garrison's silver!
the third day of Easter week, at Vespers
The lords have ruled against me. Thirty groschen they say I must pay Heinz Bauer for ruinous work! Half a threescore groschen to a boy who drinks his time and destroys good wood. The guild elder twisted their ears, I know it.
Just pay the coin, brother. It is easier than fighting the whole guild.
Nota scribaeHe struck his ledger heavily while saying this.
the second Friday of Lent, at Sext
Bread is dearer than last year, and King Sigismund's soldiers are on every road, but men still need saddles. I took fifteen groschen today for repairing a merchant's harness. Honest work outlasts any army. Though I caught one of my hired hands sleeping near the vats.
At least you have hands to sleep. My brother works me like a mule from Prime to Compline.
the Thursday after Candlemas, at Prime
That whoreson journeyman Heinz Bauer ruined a costly saddle-tree today. Cut the wood so poorly a dog could not ride on it. I threw him out of my shop with nothing but a fustian jacket and the shoes on his feet. No Easter wages for wasted time.
The wood was rotten before I put a blade to it! You owe me my wages, Thomas.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
A widow with no dowry brings nothing but another mouth. You will wed who I say or you will get nothing.
The father shouted this from the street.