She is sure he will fall and break a leg, an arm, or his neck.
Her boy mustn't ride the horse lest he fall and injure himself; if he goes to swim he is surely in danger of being drowned, and she could never allow him or his sister to row in a boat lest it be overturned.
The child must be watched momentarily, lest it fall out of the window, search out a sharp knife, swallow poison, or do some irreparable damage to the bric-a-brac.
Here let me relate an incident the truth of which is vouched for, and which clearly illustrates the difference between the attitude of worry and that of trust.

One day, when Flattich, a pious minister of the Wurtemberg, was seated in his armchair, one of his foster children fell out of a second-story window, right before him, to the pavement below.

He calmly ordered his daughter to go and bring up the child.
On doing so it was found the little one had sustained no injury.
A neighbor, however, aroused by the noise, came in and reproached Flattich for his carelessness and inattention.

While she was thus remonstrating, her own child, which she had brought with her, fell from the bench upon which she had seated it, and broke its arm.

"Do you see, good woman," said the minister, "if you imagine yourself to be the sole guardian of your child, then you must constantly carry it in your arms.