Ellen had never brought herself fully to realize the application of this trite saying to the case of Little John, but she now went away to her room and thought the whole question through.  She saw all at once the long series of temptations to which he must be subjected before he became a man.  Yes, it was possible that this sweet child might grow up to disappoint her bitterly, to be far worse than an honest sailor,—­a useless idler, or even a criminal.  She shuddered at the very thought of the last, and with a great leaping of the heart she resolved that, if God should see fit to spare the child, her own life should be devoted to shaping his.  She would forget herself entirely; her little ambitious projects should be wholly thrown aside, that no effort might be spared for the accomplishment of her one great duty.  Tenderness and sympathy and example should do their utmost, but she would not spoil her boy:  there should be sternness if it were needed; and she felt that this would try her devotion most of all.

Life at Marant thoroughly agreed with Little John.  Every day left upon him its mark of development and improvement.  Other babies in the neighborhood suffered more or less from “prickly heat,” whooping-cough, and cholera morbus, and ailed upon the advent of teeth.  Not so Little John.  He seemed proof against everything.  One day Ellen was called from the beach to attend to some detail of housekeeping, and upon her return was horrified to find the child playing with some poison ivy, which Mrs. Doly, in metropolitan ignorance of its qualities, had gathered from the adjacent bluff.  He had rubbed it all over his face and crushed it between his hands, and was in the act of stuffing some of it down the back of his neck.  With her gloved hands Ellen snatched the leaves away, upbraided poor Mrs. Doly, subjected Little John to violent ablution, and then sat down to await disaster.  But it never came.  The only inconvenience Little John ever experienced from the incident was the loss of a certain degree of liberty; for thence-forth Ellen would not suffer him to be separated from her for an instant.  Mrs. Doly, however, did not escape so easily.  The noxious Rhus produced its most evil effects upon her face and hands, and for a week she led a life of physical torture enhanced by humiliation of spirit.  Upon another occasion a neighbor’s child dropped a small marble in front of Little John, who unhesitatingly picked it up, put it into his mouth, and swallowed it before anybody could interfere.  Again was Ellen aroused to the highest degree of alarm; but this time, expecting nothing less than speedy death for the unfortunate baby, she despatched the entire household in search of a physician.  None was to be found at Marant, the sole local practitioner having gone to Boston for the day.  With great presence of mind, Ellen then instituted a course of treatment herself, up to the successful termination of which Little John maintained his usual excellent spirits.