Even this was enough to explain why Adam had become so reserved, misanthropic and silent a man, though even in his youth he certainly had not been what is termed a gay fellow.
The forge where he grew up, was still standing in the market-place of the little city below; it had belonged to his grandfather and great-grandfather.

There had never been any lack of custom, to the annoyance of the wise magistrates, whose discussions were disturbed by the hammering that rang across the ill-paved square to the windows of the council-chamber; but, on the other hand, the idle hours of the watchmen under the arches of the ground-floor of the town-hall were sweetened by the bustle before the smithy.
How Adam had come from the market-place to the Richtberg, is a story speedily told.
He was the only child of his dead parents, and early learned his father's trade.

When his mother died, the old man gave his son and partner his blessing, and some florins to pay his expenses, and sent him away.

He went directly to Nuremberg, which the old man praised as the high-school of the smith's art, and there remained twelve years.

When, at the end of that time, news came to Adam that his father was dead, and he had inherited the forge on the market-place, he wondered to find that he was thirty years old, and had gone no farther than Nuremberg.