pedlar on the Kolin road, of Miskowitz
“I walk the Kolin road from sunrise to dusk with a heavy basket, lad. It is honest work, but my knees scream and I reckon I deserve a cart.”
Things Andreas had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Wednesday before Whitsun, at Vespers
My knee aches worse than ever, lad. I reckon if I do not buy that hand-cart from Grund soon, my legs will give out. But a man gets thirsty on the road, and the hellers slip away into Ellen's ale before I can save a proper kopa.
Nota scribaeDictated by the hearth. He rubbed his knee the entire time.
the second day after St George, at Compline
That whoreson William from the Kuttenberg garrison stopped me on the Kolin road. He took my hellers, kicked my basket of walnuts in the dirt, and snatched my father's horn-handled knife right off my belt by force! Sakra, I will pay good coin to anyone who gets it back.
the third day of Easter week, at Sext
Five years since the winter fever took my father Adam. He left me nothing but that horn-handled knife, which has cut every loaf I ate since. Up in heaven he is carving handles by a warm fire, out of the wind. I reckon I will drink a tankard for him today.
He was a good woodcutter. May the Lord grant him rest.
Nota scribaeHe was weeping into his cup when he asked this to be written.
the feast of St Gregory, at None
The mud on the Kolin road is thick enough to swallow a boot. I peddled three bundles of cheap wool to a farmer, but the damp gets into my joints. I tell you, lad, hauling this basket is breaking my back. The world is full of hardship.
Stop complaining and lift your feet. The mud is the same for everyone.
Aye, the damp is a curse. Get yourself back to the tavern.
Candlemas, at Prime
I woke at first light and my knee is already screaming. I reckon the Pope himself does not walk as far as I do. I am hoarding my copper hellers for a hand-cart so I can stop carrying this bloody basket, but the prices in the market are daylight robbery.
The Lord gave you legs, Andreas, you should be thankful they still carry you.
Nota scribaeThe word he used for the Pope was entirely disrespectful.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
You drink it as fast as I pour it, Andreas. Save your copper if the basket is so heavy.
Ay, a bad knee is the devil's own work. Sit down and have another.