Thomas Stimpleton

He was a fool. Just ask anyone. “That Thomas is a bigger fool than a fool’s fool,” the townsfolk would say.

Thomas never said much but was polite and never got cross, so the villagers left him to be. Besides, who but a fool could they get to be the town’s honey dipper or pooper scooper for the rest of you folks.

Thomas lived in a small room with a bed, chair, and washstand. He woke at dawn, washed his face, and made a bowl of corn mush. Then, he went off to work.

Lunch brought a hard roll and sausage from the butcher, and dinner was cold soup from Mrs. Speichli, who felt sorry for the poor dolt.

Thomas talked very little. He had heard that it was better to be perceived as a fool than to open one’s mouth and remove all doubt.

When the King wanted a new road, the sheriff passed him by for forced labor. After all, who needs a fool around?

When the army came to recruit men for the war, they passed him by, for who wants a fool in your ranks?

Thomas grew old, while so many died young.

When the Grimm Reaper came for Thomas, he asked, “Why did you let them think you a fool when by all accounts you were the smartest in the land?”

Thomas smiled and replied, “Better to be thought a fool than to open your mouth and be one.”