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
wherewith 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