A Duke is hunting in a forest with his men-at-arms and servants when he comes upon a tree. Archery targets are painted all over it, and smack in the middle of each is an arrow.
“Who is this incredibly fine archer?” cries the Duke. “I must find him.”
After continuing through the forest for a few miles, he comes across a small boy carrying a bow and arrow. Eventually the boy admits that it was he who shot the arrows plumb in the center of all the targets.
“You didn’t just walk up to the targets and hammer the arrows into the middle, did you?” asks the Duke worriedly.
“No my lord. I shot them from 100 paces. I swear it by all that I hold holy.”
“That is truly astonishing,” says the Duke. “I hereby admit you into my service, but I must ask one favor in return. You must tell me how you came to be such an outstanding shot.”
“Well,” said the boy, “first I fire the arrow at the tree, and then I paint the target around it.”