There was a saying that England was a paradise for women, a prison for servants, and hell for horses. Apprentices were hardly worth mentioning. England, 1587: Our hero's journey to becoming an apprentice is still a long one. First, he is dropped off as a tiny bundle at the orphanage, where, alongside barley porridge and the occasional beating, he also receives his name: "When Mistress MacGregor saw how fragile I was, she exclaimed, 'Oh, what a poor little Hottemäxchen!' From this unfortunate exclamation came the name Hotte, which stuck to me like tar for years. Of course, it could have been worse. They could have called me Klepper." For seven years, Hotte waits in vain for an adoptive family—plenty of time to understand life: Right is what brings an advantage, wrong is what causes harm—and the most important thing is.