CHAPTER VII

THE BENEFIT OF MANY FAILURES


I had now tried upwards of fifteen different methods for the cure
of my stammering. I had tried the physician; the surgeon; the
elocution teacher; the hypnotic specialist; the osteopath; a
clairvoyant; a mail-order scheme; the world's greatest speech
specialist--so-called, and several other things. My parents had
spent hundreds of dollars of money trying to have me cured. They
had spared no effort, stopped at no cost. And yet I now stammered
worse than I had ever stammered before. Everything I had tried had
been a worthless failure. Nothing had been of the least permanent
good to me. My money was gone, months of time had been wasted and
I now began to wonder if I had not been very foolish indeed, in
going to first one man and then another, trying to be cured.
"Wouldn't it have been better," I asked, "if I had resigned myself
to a life as a stammerer and let it go at that?"

My father before me stammered. So did my grandfather and no less
than fourteen of my blood relations. My affliction was inherited
and therefore supposedly incurable. At least so I was told by
honest physicians and other scientific observers who believed what
they said and who had no desire to make any personal gain by
trafficking in my infirmity. These men told me frankly that their
skill and knowledge held out no hope for me and advised me from
the very beginning to save my money and avoid the pitfalls of the
many who would profess to be able to cure me.