Jean Servien Was Born In A Back-Shop In The _Rue Notre-Dame
Des Champs_. His Father Was A Bookbinder And Worked For The
Religious Houses. Jean Was A Little Weakling Child, And His Mother
Nursed Him At Her Breast As She Sewed The Books, Sheet By Sheet,
With The Curved Needle Of The Trade. One Day As She Was Crossing
The Shop, Humming A Song, In The Words Of Which She Found Expression
For The Vague, Splendid Visions Of Her Maternal Ambition, Her
Foot Slipped On The Boards, Which Were Moist With Paste.
Des Champs_. His Father Was A Bookbinder And Worked For The
Religious Houses. Jean Was A Little Weakling Child, And His Mother
Nursed Him At Her Breast As She Sewed The Books, Sheet By Sheet,
With The Curved Needle Of The Trade. One Day As She Was Crossing
The Shop, Humming A Song, In The Words Of Which She Found Expression
For The Vague, Splendid Visions Of Her Maternal Ambition, Her
Foot Slipped On The Boards, Which Were Moist With Paste.
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