The idea that I would finally outgrow my difficulty was strengthened in the minds of my parents and friends by the fact that there were times when my impediment seemed almost to disappear, but to our surprise and disappointment, it always came back again, each time in a more aggravated form; each time with a stronger hold upon me than ever before.

I found out, then, one of the fundamental characteristics of stammering—­its intermittent tendency.  In other words, I discovered that a partial relief from the difficulty was one of the true symptoms of the malady.  And I learned further that this relief is only temporary and not what we first thought it to be, viz:  a sign that the disorder was leaving.

CHAPTER III

MY SEARCH CONTINUES

My parents’ efforts to have me cured, however, did not cease with my visit to the medicine man.  We were still looking for something that would bring relief.  My teacher, Miss Cora Critchlow, handed me an advertisement one day, telling me of a man who claimed to be able to cure stammering by mail.  In the hope that I would get some good from the treatment, my parents sent this mail order man a large sum of money.  In return for this I was furnished with instructions to do a number of useless things, such as holding toothpicks between my teeth, talking through my nose, whistling before I spoke a word, and many other foolish things.  It was at this time that I learned once and for all, the imprudence of throwing money away on these mail order “cures,” so-called, and I made up my mind to bother no more with this man and his kind.

So far as the mail order instructions were concerned, they were crude and unscientific—­merely a hodge-podge of pseudo-technical phraseology and crass ignorance—­a meaningless jargon scarcely intelligible to the most highly educated, and practically impossible of interpretation by the average stammerer who was supposed to follow the course.  Even after I had, by persistent effort, interpreted the instructions and followed them closely for many months, there was not a sign of the slightest relief from my trouble.  It was evident to me even then that I could never cure myself by following a mail cure.

Today, after twenty-eight years of experience in the cure of stammering, I can say with full authority, that stammering cannot be successfully treated by mail.  The very nature of the difficulty, as well as the method of treatment, make it impossible to put the instructions into print or to have the stammerer follow out the method from a printed sheet.

As I approached manhood, my impediment began to get worse.  My stuttering changed to stammering.  Instead of rapidly repeating syllables or words, I was unable to begin a word.  I stood transfixed, my limbs drawing themselves into all kinds of unnatural positions.  There were violent spasmodic movements of the head, and contractions of my whole body.  The muscles of my throat would swell, affecting the respiratory organs, and causing a curious barking sound.  When I finally got started, I would utter the first part of the sentence slowly, gradually increase the speed, and make a rush toward the end.