How the Schildburghers Figured Out Why It Was Dark in Their Town Hall and What They Did After That

For a long time, the residents of Schilda could not stop admiring their town hall and would sit in it from morning till night. Fortunately for them, it did not rain even once until autumn, so the hole in the roof did not prevent them from making many important decisions.

But then the gentle summer passed, and the sun began to hide its cheerful face behind gray clouds more often—winter was approaching, harsh and unforgiving, and the drizzle in the Council Chamber became more frequent.

The Schildburgers did not like this, and they decided that if a person under an umbrella does not get wet, then they too would not get damp if they repaired their roof. They re-tiled the roof, reasoning that since they had basked in the sun during the summer, as Mother Nature had instructed, then in winter they ought to sit by the stove so that their hands and feet would not freeze.

But after they repaired the roof and returned to the chamber, what do you think? The town hall was just as dark as before.

Once again, the Schildburgers sat in the dark town hall with torches on their heads and held council. Finally, it was the turn of one Schildburger to speak—a man who never considered himself the biggest fool (and, to avoid offending his modesty, I shall not name him).

So, this Schildburger stood up and declared that the best course of action would be to follow the advice of his godfather. With the permission of the esteemed assembly, he immediately left the chamber to go and fetch his godfather.

As he groped his way along the wall (the torch on his head had long since gone out!), he noticed a sliver of light in one spot: it seemed the wall had not been properly sealed there. He took a deep breath, remembered his past wisdom—which, like everyone else, he had abandoned—quickly returned to the chamber, and began:

"Well, neighbors, allow me to speak now."

And when they permitted him, he continued:

"Here's what I'll say: for example, if I develop a habit that replaces what I was born with. It's a strange thing—bad habits especially quickly replace natural ones and almost become a second nature. The same has happened to us. Until now, we were people with minds and could figure things out. But now we've adopted foolish habits, and they've suited us so well that they've successfully driven out our inborn traits. We, perfectly reasonable people, have now become fools and refuse to part with our foolishness for any reward. We've fallen into such trouble and can't understand what our mistake is, why we're sitting in the dark all the time. And no one has realized that we forgot to put windows in our town hall. We can't just parade ourselves as fools like this. It's very crude. Only true fools can pull that off."

The Schildburgers were terrified—how could they have been so careless? It seemed as if they had been forsaken by God! They were even ashamed to look at each other. And so, without any further meetings or delays, they set about breaking holes in the walls of the town hall, and not a single one refused to have his own little window, about which he could later say: "Here it is, my little window, and the only light comes through it."

Very soon, the town hall was ready, lacking only its interior furnishings—but that is a story for another time.

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How the Schildburghers Figured Out Why It Was Dark in Their Town Hall and What They Did After That

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