[52.] A mad fellow newly married, had onely one young child by his wife, of some quarter old, whom he dearly and tenderly loved, but he was much given to good fellowship, and she altogether addicted to sparing, & good huswifery: still he used to come merry home from the taverne from his boone companions, to her great griefe, she being as sparing of her purse, as prodigall of her tongue, for she was little better than a Scold, would oft upbraid him with his expences of money, and time, and to be so often drunke was prejudiciall both to his estate and bodily health, and that it were far better to spend that at home in his house than in a Taverne; with such Matron like speeches, always concluding her exhortations with a vow that if ever he came home again in the like pickle she would (happen what would come) fling the Child into the Moat (for the house was moted round.) It happned shortly after, that he revelling till late in a cold frosty Winter evening, she having intelligence by her scouts where hee was, made no doubt hee would come home flustred. She commands the Infant to bee convaied to the farther part of the house, and to wrap the Cat in the blankets, put it in the Cradle, and there sit and rocke it. Presently comes her Husband, she fals to her old lesson of quarrelling with him, and hee with her, ill words begot worse, much lewd language past betwixt them. The woman suddenly steps to the Cradle (having spied her advantage;) I have long threatned thee a mischiefe, and that revenge I cannot worke on thee (come doggs, come devills) I will inflict on thy Brat in the Cradle; instantly snatched it up in her armes, and ran with it to the Moat side, and flings it into the middle of the water: the poore man much affrighted, leaves to pursue her, and leaps into the water, up in mud and water to the very chinne, crying, Save, oh save the child. Now waded he in the Moat in a very bitter cold frost, till he brought out the Mantle, and with much paine and danger comes to the shore, and still crying, Alas, my poore childe, opened the Cloathes: At length the frighted Cat cryed Mew, and being at liberty leapt from betwixt his armes, and ranne away. The husband both amazed and vexed, the woman heartily laughed at her revenge, and the poore man was glad to reconcile the difference before she would either give him fire or dry linnen.