The small boy grew up as Phil Carre, and knew no other name.
I am assured that he was a fine, sturdy little fellow, and that he took after his grandfather in looks and disposition.

And his grandfather and Krok delighted in him, and fed his hungry little mind from their own hard-won experiences, and taught him all their craft as he grew able for it, so that few boys of his age could handle boat and nets and lines as he could.

And Philip the elder, being of an open mind through his early travels, and believing that God was more like to help them that helped themselves than otherwise, made him a fearless swimmer, whereby the boy gained mighty enjoyment and sturdy health, and later on larger things still.
But it was his mother who led him gently towards the higher things, and opened the eyes of his understanding and the doors of his heart.

She taught him more than ever the schoolmaster could, and more than most boys of his day knew.

So that in time he came to see in the storms and calms, more than simply bad times and good; and in the clear blue sky and starry dome, in the magical unfoldings of the dawn and the matchless pageants of the sunset, more than mere indications of the weather.
Yet, withal, he was a very boy, full of life and the joy of it, and in their loving watchfulness over his development his mother and grandfather lost sight almost of the darker times out of which he had come, and looked only to that which he might in time come to be..