Pauline CARTON (1884-1974). L.A.S., Saturday, to Pierre LHOSTE; 2 pages in-4. Amusing evocation of her childhood. She first had a "vocation as a cook during which I had put rum in a pan and set the kitchen on fire"; then she got it into her head "to write a volume of verses and to sell it" without intermediaries: "I had a small printing press bought in the toy department, and made my father and mother regret the time of my debaucheries in the kitchen. The little press could print catechism-sized pages. I immediately composed a sonnet to be printed, and my person was covered with ink as if by magic. The armchairs in the living room were filled with lead letters, proofs dried on the beds, and there was not a person in the family who was not speckled with black and stained on the backside. After a few days, I think my printing press was relegated to the top of a cupboard, for, to my candid surprise, I could not get my hands on it again... and the volume remained there"...