Still more significant is the fact that, of the many methods which have been invented for the treatment of stammering--and which include such curious devices as beating time with every word, and wearing artificial supports under the tongue--all have had to their credit a certain--however small--proportion of genuine cures. This would suggest, not that they have been intrinsically valuable, but that, in the cases cured, they so impressed the mind of the stammerer with their therapeutic virtue as to banish his long-entertained belief that he could not talk like other people. For that matter, recent experiments go to bear out the view that almost any method, no matter how fantastic, will cure some stammerers, if only they have a lively faith in its efficacy. For example, there was once brought to the Boston City Hospital a woman of thirty-five, who, though formerly speaking without any difficulty, had begun to stammer in a frightful manner, following a violent quarrel with her husband. She could utter scarcely a sound, except weirdly inarticulate noises, and these only by a great effort. The physician to whom her case was entrusted soon became satisfied that she was suffering mainly from a profound belief that she would never be able to talk again; and he therefore endeavoured to reason her out of this, but to no purpose. Finally, he abandoned the attempt, and, after leaving her pretty much to her own devices for several days, impressively said to her one morning, in a tone of great authority: "Well, Mrs. Blank, I have been looking carefully into your case, and I find there is one way certain to cure you. It may be a little painful, but I know you will not mind that, as long as it is going to make you entirely well." So saying, and with an air of the utmost confidence, he began to apply to her an electric current, just strong enough to make her wince. Only a few treatments of this sort were found necessary to enable the hospital authorities to discharge her as cured--and she stayed cured.