There was a tradesman, a painter called Jacque who was very interested in making a penny where he could, so he often would thin down paint to make it go a little bit further. As it happened, he got away with this for some time, but eventually a diocese decided to do a big restoration job on the painting of one of their biggest churches. Jacque put in a bid and, because his price was so low, he got the job. And so he set to erecting the trestles and setting up the planks, and buying the paint and, yes, I am sorry to say, thinning it down with the turpentine. Well, Jacque was up on the scaffolding, painting away. The job was nearly completed when, suddenly, there was a horrendous clap of thunder. The sky seemed to open and the rain poured down, washing the thinned paint from all over the church. Suddenly a bolt of lightning struck and knocked Jacque for a loop. He flew from the scaffold landing, landing on the lawn, amongst the gravestones, surrounded by telltale puddles of the thinned and useless paint. Jacque was no fool. He knew this was a judgment from the Almighty, so he got down on his knees and cried: "O God! Forgive me for all the wrong I have done! What should I do?" And from the thunder, a mighty voice spoke.... "Repaint! And thin no more!"