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Updated: June 21, 2025
'Answer the captain instantly, cried Hugh, beating his hat down on his head; 'why don't you ever tell what trade you're of? 'I'm of as gen-teel a calling, brother, as any man in England as light a business as any gentleman could desire. 'Was you 'prenticed to it? asked Mr Tappertit. 'No. Natural genius, said Mr Dennis. 'No 'prenticing. It come by natur'. Muster Gashford knows my calling.
Mr Tappertit obeyed again, still under protest; and betaking himself to the workshop, began seriously to fear that he might find it necessary to poison his master, before his time was out.
There is no relenting towards Potts: he never gains our affections like Don Quixote and Pickwick: he has not even the infatuate courage of Tappertit. But we dare not laugh at him, because, somehow, we recognize ourselves in Potts.
Although Sim Tappertit had taken no share in this conversation, no part of it being addressed to him, he had not been wanting in such silent manifestations of astonishment, as he deemed most compatible with the favourable display of his eyes. 'Why, what the devil's the matter with the lad? cried the locksmith. 'Is he choking? 'Who? demanded Sim, with some disdain. 'Who?
'Pray, Mr Tappertit, said Mr Chester, 'has that complicated piece of ironmongery which you have done me the favour to bring with you, any immediate connection with the business we are to discuss? 'It has not, sir, rejoined the 'prentice. 'It's going to be fitted on a ware'us-door in Thames Street.
'Very good, said Mr Tappertit, fetching a long breath when the tale was told, and rubbing his hair up till it stood stiff and straight on end all over his head. 'His days are numbered. 'Oh, Simmun! 'I tell you, said the 'prentice, 'his days are numbered. Leave me. Get along with you. Miggs departed at his bidding, but less because of his bidding than because she desired to chuckle in secret.
'Have you, said Mr Tappertit, letting his gaze fall on the party indicated, who was indeed the new knight, by this time restored to his own apparel; 'Have you the impression of your street-door key in wax? The long comrade anticipated the reply, by producing it from the shelf on which it had been deposited.
'Then, said Miggs, more faintly than before, 'it's fire. Where is it, sir? It's near this room, I know. I've a good conscience, sir, and would much rather die than go down a ladder. All I wish is, respecting my love to my married sister, Golden Lion Court, number twenty-sivin, second bell-handle on the right-hand door-post. 'Miggs! cried Mr Tappertit, 'don't you know me? Sim, you know Sim
'A little private vengeance in this, Mr Tappertit? 'Private vengeance, sir, or public sentiment, or both combined destroy him, said Mr Tappertit. 'Miggs says so too. Miggs and me both say so. We can't bear the plotting and undermining that takes place. Our souls recoil from it. Barnaby Rudge and Mrs Rudge are in it likewise; but the villain, Joseph Willet, is the ringleader.
'I am afraid he IS haughty, said Mr Chester. 'Do you know I was really afraid of that before; and you confirm me? 'To recount the menial offices I've had to do for your son, sir, said Mr Tappertit; 'the chairs I've had to hand him, the coaches I've had to call for him, the numerous degrading duties, wholly unconnected with my indenters, that I've had to do for him, would fill a family Bible.
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