One day someone knocked on his door, and George found there a young man weilding a club. "Who are you, and why are you carrying such a big club?" George asked nervously.
The other replied, "I can't tell you who I am, because I don't have a name yet. I'm trying to make one for myself! To do that I must become the greatest giant killer that ever lived. You're a giant, so I'm going to kill you. Sorry about that! (It's funny, I thought you'd be taller.)"
"I'm not a giant, I'm just a tiny little ant!" said George.
The would-be giant killer pointed to George's mailbox and said that he's never seen a giant before today, but that he's known many mailboxes and they're yet to tell him a lie.
Unfortunately, I don't remember how the story ended! I think George finally convinces the giant killer that he is not, in fact, a giant, and tells him to find someone bigger to pulverize.
This ant, which I first assumed was a queen (until someone pointed out the obvious: no wings), was more than 1.25 inches long, and neither of us (Corinne or myself) had seen one this big before. (I know, they probably grow them bigger in Texas, but everything is bigger in Texas!)
If you think you can handle it, click on the pictures to see larger, more detailed versions.
Page last updated: 2/9/2002
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From now on, ending a sentence with a preposition is something up with which I will not put. - WC