If you need to catch up, part one is here.
The carpenter was asked to build a bookshelf for the mayor of the nearest town. He built the best bookshelf anyone in the area had ever seen. It had strong, firm shelves, yet such fine carving that anybody who saw it was amazed. Other carpenters from around the county came to see it, and all came away disappointed that they would never be able to create such a bookshelf themselves.
The mayor said: “Plain wood will not match the furniture I already have. Would you paint it for me?”
The carpenter replied: “I have created some of my finest carvings for this bookshelf. Painting them would ruin the sharpness and the definition. In any case, I am a carpenter. My craft is wood, not paint. I will not paint the bookshelves for you.”
The mayor went away disappointed, despite now having the finest bookshelves anyone had ever seen. All the visitors to his home wanted to see them and admire them, and the carpenter’s fame grew further.
The bishop of the diocese travelled to the carpenter’s village to see him. “My palace needs a new dining suite,” he said. “Will you be able to build me one?”
It was the carpenter’s largest commission yet, but he took it up with confidence, even though so many people were giving him work that he was having to turn people away. After several months, he had completed the finest dining suite yet seen, with intricate seat-backs and delicate table legs, so finely-carved you would barely believe it was made of wood.
“Will you paint it for me?” said the Bishop.
“I am not a painter!” said the carpenter. “I am the finest carpenter this country has known, but people keep asking me to paint my work! Slapping thick, sticky paint on such delicate chairs would ruin them! And besides, I am not a painter. I am a carpenter. I work with wood. I am the finest woodworker anybody knows, but I cannot paint. I will not paint these chairs, because that is not my craft.”
The bishop went away, disappointed, even though he had the finest dining suite in the land.