 may be inferred from these premises, that in the small body of Mr.
Tappertit there was locked up an ambitious and aspiring soul. As certain
liquors, confined in casks too cramped in their dimensions, will ferment, and
fret, and chafe in their imprisonment, so the spiritual essence or soul of Mr.
Tappertit would sometimes fume within that precious cask, his body, until, with
great foam and froth and splutter, it would force a vent, and carry all before
it. It was his custom to remark, in reference to any one of these occasions,
that his soul had got into his head; and in this novel kind of intoxication many
scrapes and mishaps befell him which he had frequently concealed with no small
difficulty from his worthy master.
    Sim Tappertit, among the other fancies upon which his before-mentioned soul
was for ever feasting and regaling itself (and which fancies, like the liver of
Prometheus, grew as they were fed upon), had a mighty notion of his order; and
had been heard by the servant-maid openly expressing his regret that the
'prentices no longer carried clubs where-with to mace the citizens: that was his
strong expression. He was likewise reported to have said that in former times a
stigma had been cast upon the body by the execution of George Barnwell, to which
they should not have basely submitted, but should have demanded him of the
legislature - temperately at first; then by an appeal to arms, if necessary - to
be dealt with as they in their wisdom might think fit. These thoughts always led
him to consider what a glorious engine the 'prentices might yet become if they
had but a master spirit at their head; and then he would darkly, and to the
terror of his hearers, hint at certain reckless fellows that he knew of, and at
a certain Lion Heart ready to become their captain, who, once afoot, would make
the Lord Mayor tremble on his throne.
    In respect of dress and personal decoration, Sim Tappertit was no less of an
adventurous and enterprising character. He had been seen, beyond dispute, to
pull off ruffles of the finest quality at the corner of the street on Sunday
nights, and to put them carefully in his pocket before returning home; and it
was quite notorious that on all great holiday occasions it was his habit to
exchange his plain steel knee-buckles for a pair of glittering paste, under
cover of a friendly post, planted most conveniently in that same spot. Add to
this that he was in years just twenty, in his looks much older, and
