Among his clerical brethren was a poor hen-pecked husband, whose wife was possessed of a temper that made her the terror of the neighborhood.  Cartwright had often been invited by the poor man to go home with him; “but,” he says, “I frankly confess I was afraid to trust myself” but at length, yielding to his importunities, he went home with his oppressed brother, intending to spend the night with him.  His visit roused the fury of the wife, and “I saw in a minute,” says our preacher, “that the devil was in her as big as an alligator, and I determined on my course.”  The woman held her tongue until after supper, when her husband asked her kindly to join them in prayers.  She flew into a rage, and swore there should be no praying in her house that night.  Cartwright tried to reason with her, but she cursed him roundly.  Then, facing her sternly, he said, “Madam, if you were my wife, I would break you of your bad ways, or I would break your neck.”

“The devil you would,” said she.  “Yes, you are a pretty Christian, ain’t you?”

She continued cursing him, but Cartwright sternly bade her hold her peace, and let them pray.  She declared she would not.

“Now,” said he to her, “if you do not be still, and behave yourself, I’ll put you out of doors.”

“At this,” says he, “she clenched her fist and swore she was one-half alligator and the other half snapping-turtle, and that it would take a better man than I was to put her out.  It was a small cabin we were in, and we were not far from the door, which was then standing open.  I caught her by the arm, and swinging her round in a circle, brought her right up to the door, and shoved her out.  She jumped up, tore her hair, foamed, and such swearing as she uttered was seldom equaled, and never surpassed.  The door, or shutter of the door, was very strongly made, to keep out hostile Indians; I shut it tight, barred it, and went to prayer, and I prayed as best I could; but I have no language at my command to describe my feelings.  At the same time, I was determined to conquer, or die in the attempt.  While she was raging and foaming in the yard and around the cabin, I started a spiritual song, and sung loud, to drawn her voice as much as possible.  The five or six little children ran and squatted about and crawled under the beds.  Poor things, they were scared almost to death.

“I sang on, and she roared and thundered on outside, till she became perfectly exhausted, and panted for breath.  At length, when she had spent her force, she became perfectly calm and still, and then knocked at the door, saying, ‘Mr. Cartwright, please let me in.’

“‘Will you behave yourself if I let you in?’ said I.

“‘O yes,’ said she, ‘I will;’ and throwing myself on my guard, and perfectly self-possessed, I opened the door, took her by the hand, led her in, and seated her near the fire-place.  She had roared and foamed until she was in a high perspiration, and looked pale as death.  After she took her seat, ‘O,’ said she, ‘what a fool I am,’